The Vampire's Alliance
by The VII Duchess
Summary: Nineteen twelve would prove itself to be the last for Isabella Swan. Yet from the anguish of the carnage, she would return. Awakening more poised, more graceful, and more inhuman than before. Into the savage wilderness of the Mexican desert, with no recollection of past mortality. Many things can occur within a century, especially when one is immortal. AU canon couples ExB
1. Preface

_Authors Notes: Hello to all who have been coerced into taking a look at this story because of my extremely brief summary. Before I indulge you with the extended summary (or if you just scroll below) a quick note to say thanks beforehand. I'm re-writing this original prologue from a far off distant chapter, and since the first updates and plans for the story, it has taken on a life of its own._

_In the very beginning this was a short story, a short story that explored life for Bella as a pre-made vampire. As I have grown a little older, and considered the books with a more critical eye, the less and less I have come to identify with Bella. So when writing this I wanted more than anything to have a stronger, more independent Bella. While some of her morals are certainly questionable, I like to think of her as an askew role model. And if not, well, I'd like to have half the wit she does._

_I hope you continue onwards, enjoy the story, and reviews are most welcome._

_Thanks in advance!_

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><p><span>Summary:<span>

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Nineteen Twelve would prove itself to be the last for Isabella Swan. Yet from the anguish of the watery carnage, she would return. Awakening to a more inhuman existence, with a blank past and bearing only her forename from word of mouth.

But with life in the Mexican desert - with its degenerate characters and barbaric altercations - having lost its charm. A change in fortunes opens up opportunities to the north; alongside a strange meeting with some more humane vampires.

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><p><span>Preface<span>

"If history were taught in the form of stories, it would never be forgotten."

― Rudyard Kipling

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The year eighteen hundred and ninety nine passed by without so much as an acknowledgement on my behalf, at a mere five years old I was too young to fully understand the stupendous and momentous moment that transpired as the clocks struck beyond the midnight hour. The pretence of living to see the dawn of another century was unfathomably impossible, therefore it would be both my first and last. I have no doubt that while I lay fast asleep on New Year's Eve, my parents and all other adults, gathered in the gaslight to bid farewell to the Eighteen Hundreds and to welcome the Nineteen's with that mixture of fear and faith, which is man's historic and merciful attitude to the future.

This brand new century arose much like the previous; I spent the earliest years of my life existing on the cusp of a new era. Where expectations continued to grow, and we, with our Victorian values, were still unflappable in every aspect. But as much as we prided ourselves on stoic stances and mannerisms, society continued to speak of the infamous jet mottled queen, who seemed to hide away from the public eye.

However, she who had given her name to our era was soon to be replaced by a more fashionable elite, a more voguish monarch, of a large countenance, and an even larger waist band.

While society enthralled themselves within this new era of _La Belle Époque;_ and a good deal of turmoil, we found great fortune within the trends of trade, immigration, and _oh so_ importantly the advancements in technology. My father, while in society retained the mark of Gentleman, now held more delight within a shipping venture that had been so violently growing alongside great scientific headway. Across the British Raj and onwards, the ships sailed, bringing back their fortunes in spices, tea, and other such exotic bounties. And it was thusly left mostly to my mother to parade around the circles, presenting me as her child when an opportunity arose, pinched cheeks, Nursemaids, and Governesses

I was a single child, the only one, and conceded of hardly a single instance in which some indulgence was not bestowed upon me. Growing up with the knowledge that from my father, I would pass onto a suitable husband, and I would care for my children in much the same manner.

It therefore came to be that in the late summer of nineteen eleven, I was introduced to a man of subtle substance. There was no great lord of money within the young man's repertoire, a relatively well-to-do family; and he a clerk at his father's law firm. But with no heir of his own, my father needed a man of a good and sensible mind to take over upon death. And thusly we were addressed to one another.

He was quietly charming, and held himself well, notably handsome. All in all, a very agreeable young man. We were to be wed come next winter.

But like most tales, this event did not come to pass, and I did not go on to marry this man.

Having exceeded the likes of his British based ports, my father was keen for the expansion of his company. North America was experiencing the great flush of its 'Gilded Age,' the economy was thriving, and so sights were set across the ocean. A new shipping yard was devised, planned, and accepted. To be built within the geographically perfect location of Nova Scotia, for ease of trading with both Canada, and the United States.

Having neared completion, it was only natural for my father to take the journey across the _pond; _and through absolute delight displayed at such a prospect by my mother. Tickets were purchased for the maiden voyage of White Star Lines greatest achievement to date.

And so, it seemed, the fates began to transpire against us.

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	2. Chapter One: Routine Day at Sea

_A/N: Right onwards with chapter number one. And my disclaimer: that I don't own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter One: A Routine Day at Sea<span>

April 14th, 1912

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At sea, another day of routine activity started upon RMS Titanic. There were meals to be prepared and served, bright work to be polished, decks to be scraped and sanded and passengers to be tended. Far below there were boilers to be fired and coal passed and trimmed, steam pressure to be maintained, all to speed the ship westwards. In the saloons and smoking rooms rumours circulated of a record crossing, from noon to noon an increase number of miles had been logged.

In the first class library, amongst the painted glass windows of depicted landscapes, ancient ships and mythological figures, sat two men of my assemblage. One, who sat tall and broad was easily identified as my father, the other, a rather thin willowy gentleman, who would soon hold the title of my father-in-law. The two sat in comfortable tête à tête, discussing the feasibility of setting the new record for a ship of her size. Although it was impossible for her to take the 'Blue Riband' from the Cunard liners, having only a top speed of twenty one knots to their twenty six. But, how splendid they said it would be for her to arrive early in New York, especially upon her maiden voyage.

While in the lap of comfort inside Titanic's great rooms, a bitter Atlantic day bit at those who dared to take a stroll along the open decks. Many passengers deserted the uncovered view of the sea, and sought warmth and amenities offered inside.

Inside the Veranda Café and Palm Court, amongst the white wicker furniture and ivy climbed trellises we sat. The room alive with murmur of polite conversation, punctuated by an occasional gentle laugh, the rattle of tea cups and the clinking of glasses. The daily ritual and accepted part of everyday life, low tea was in session. Like every other lady of society, we were not to miss such a key element, intent of keeping the visage of elegance and perfection. Dressed in only the height of fashion, my mother, Mrs Marvin, and myself took our afternoon tea.

Every single one of our needs had been catered to, we were never in want of anything. Having spent several days in the company of Titanic, I struggle to imagine anything so glorious or luxurious upon land.

But never one to stray from a ritual - even when hundreds of miles out to sea - the game of gossip had taken a hold. And with so many persons to take their interest, how could the women about me possibly be scolded for the catty remarks they made, it was just far too tempting for them. "Such unkempt hair." Mother trilled, attempting to quietly judge from over the rim of her porcelain tea cup.

Mary Marvin nodded in agreement, dabbing her lips with a silk napkin. "What do you expect Renée? Such a plain girl, no family or so speak of. Why, other than her acceptable fashion tastes, she has very little to recommend her." She stopped to take another sip. "As you well know George was an attendee of Eton College, he did well to confide me with some…information."

Mother was almost on the edge of her seat, any information that she did not know about a person was surely worth its merit in gold. Especially of the slandering kind. "Information?" She smiled.

Mary nodded. "The brother could only attend such a school, due to a very generous patronage of the late father."

"Never." Mother gasped.

"Their father used to work for a country gentleman in Oxfordshire, he was kind enough to support the family, having none of his own." Mary finished, smiling happily at having delivered the news.

"Well they are nothing but…falsities. No fortune of their own, preying upon societies young and wealthy to further increase their own poor relations. Isabella you and George would do well to avoid such people, they are the kind to take advantage of your kindness for their own benefits." Mother lectured, although rather silly, I deemed she meant well in her meddling.

"Yes, Mother." I acknowledged, raising the pink cup to my lips and drinking the warm steaming tea.

"I have no doubts, for you have always been an excellent judge of character." Mother replied, gesturing to the server to pour her another cup. "You and George are both so sensible in your judgements."

"A well-bred couple." Mary added.

"The envy of society." Mother finished, gesturing for more sugar.

"With such an elegant wedding trousseau, straight from fashionable New York."

"But now, the question we must debate…Ivory, cream or white?" Mother threw the question into the displaced conversation.

They both stopped silent, turning their heads in marionette synchronization to rake their eyes over me. Sipping tea in-between their deliberation.

"White." They both confirmed to each other, nodding happily in their agreement. I forced out a small smile, as the two women of my acquaintance began to whisper excitedly over the matter of my marriage. All the while my stomach filled with the fluttering of butterflies, I rationalised it was a common feeling before a marriage. Pre-marital jitters, all the excitement and nervous feelings that every engaged woman must have felt at one time or another. After all it was a lifelong bond that only God could break.

Their conversation flowed quickly, flitting through ideas of fabrics and styles before turning to a location back home. Something father had been fast to descent upon, in the initial negations over the engagement. "It must be in the family parish." He had said, lording his stature over the Marvin's less timid nature.

It was of no secret, the benefit of this marriage would aid the Marvin's in firmly securing their place. While by no means anything less than a fine family, times as a litigator had not been so kind. With a union between our two families, George was set to leave his legal job to aid my father in the running of his company, eventually taking over upon his death. Our nuptials would allow for their financial security, therefore everything was done to please my father in his demands.

He had wanted the ceremony to take place in a local parish, the closest in proximity to our families Kent estate. And without much deliberation, it was agreed upon.

"Oh, George is here." Mrs Marvin trilled, beaming excitedly in the direction of her approaching son.

I regarded my husband-to-be as he made his way towards our table. As always, dress immaculately, in a smart grey suit, a pressed winged collar shirt and hat balanced carefully under his arm. I found myself humbled by his approach, many a single woman would be all too happy to trade places and engaged to such a kind man.

At twenty and two, there was a small and sensible age gap of only four years between us. He was extremely pleasing to the eyes, tall and slim with the most beautiful blue eyes. The only fault I could find in his handsome features was a slightly crooked nose, a flaw that made him all the more approachable.

"Mother, Mrs Swan, Isabella." He bowed and gave a charming smile.

"George, where have you been all day?" Mary inquired, gesturing the tea server to take away the layout. "We were hoping for you to tour us around the ship."

"Forgive me." He apologized with a smile. "My attention was taken by an old friend from school, but I promise tomorrow I shall tour you. But please allow me to escort you all to the staterooms, if you are quite finished."

"Indeed we are." Mother confirmed to the whole table, signalling to the café staff to pull back our seats. George was only too kind to assist me.

With the two matriarchs of the families taking each other's arms and walking on ahead, I was strategically left with my fiancée. We proceeded to stroll along the open promenade, giving polite greetings to anyone who nodded out way. The silence that lingered between us was not awkward, but when it was broken I found myself slightly relieved.

"I have some exciting news." He began, tipping his hat to an elderly and rather important looking gentleman.

"Exciting?" I pressed.

"Indeed, we are to sit with the Captain tonight, for we are lucky enough to have been invited." George stated happily, clearly excited by such an opportunity.

"Really?" I uttered . "And what has honoured us with such an invite?"

"I believe it is your fathers doing. For a new friend, he had made in a Mr Ismay."

"The Mr Ismay? Of White Star Line?" I questioned.

"The very one." He confirmed. "Both have found common shipping ground, and an invitation to the table is a result."

"They have not yet been notified, I presume." I said, gesturing to our mothers up ahead.

"No, I think such information should be left to their husbands." He replied.

"Well, with such an invite one will have to choose my evening gown with much deliberation." I declared, with slight mock to our mother's usual behaviour, we hid our laughs as the two looked back in our direction.

"A definite sixth sense." George whispered.

With quiet speak over tonight's proceedings, we continued onwards, ambling down the beautifully decorated Bridge Deck and the lines of first class staterooms. Standing tall against the white corridors my father was the easiest to spot, he greeted us with all politeness, but from his unusually jovial disposition I deemed his new found friend has been most agreeable.

We parted ways with the Marvin's, watching them depart further down the corridor and towards their own staterooms. Before turning our attentions towards getting prepared for dinner.

I was fortunate enough to have my own stateroom, connected to that of my parents through a common sitting room. The grandeur of the Georgian style was rife with velvet fabrics, dark cherry wood, and plush furnishings. On a small side table opposite the canopy bed, I spied my vase of flowers. Matching perfectly with crimson and gold theme of the room, the roses were a delightful addition to the room. Although I always thought roses were a terribly serious flower, they were not gifted lightly to someone. But I suppose George and I were in a serious place.

After removing my dress coat, hat and hair pins. I found myself idle for time; there was little point in attempting to select evening wear for tonight, for I expected mother would take that upon herself. And even getting into an evening gown was impossible without aid.

Instead, I found time to lounge and read.

With my trunks filled to capacity with the entirety of my seasonal wardrobe, hats, jewellery and all, there was barely any space for my beloved books. But I was foolish to believe the Titanic would not cater to my needs, for on the Promenade deck was a great library. The large bookcases, situated in the first class lounge, were filled to the brim with an array of literature for every taste.

It was easy to sit back and read within the confines of the ship, the gentle rock of the waves and deep background hum of the engines, all added to the comfort of the atmosphere.

Only twenty pages into a copy of The Secret Garden, and a familiar knock sounded at my door.

"Come in." I called, placing a book marker between the pages and putting it back onto the shelf.

At fifty and three, stout and fiery, my companion, Mrs Greave was not one to be meddled with. As a child she had occupied the position of my governess, teaching me all the necessary things I should need to recommend myself in marriage. Now at eighteen and about to enter into matrimony, I had little use for a governess. But having served my family faithfully all those years, her position had turned into that of a companion.

"Isabella." She admonished. "Calling out so idly, why, you could have invited anyone into your chambers."

"Nonsense, I know your knock." I smiled cheekily, enjoying the roll of the eyes and shake of the head.

"Insolent child." She scoffed, using a well-used term from my childhood. "Your mother has decided upon your dress for tonight." Margret stated, impatiently ushered in a member of our house staff. A small, unassuming girl, arms ladened with hat boxes and jewel cases.

"Naturally." I responded, gesturing for the maid to place the boxes on the table.

Margret; needing no direction for me, set about shuffling through my dresses in the wardrobes. Finally pulling out one of the most elaborate dresses in my collection. Made from a rich blue silk, the body flowed to the ground in columnar fashion, trimmed with lace sleeves and an open neck line. Indeed a well-chosen dress for such an occasion.

With exact instructions given by my companion, the maid was successfully able to get me into the dress. Taking her time to carefully fasten up the little satin buttons in the correct order, and setting the back of the dress correctly. My hair was pinned back and powder applied to my face, although I was already pale enough. From the jewellery cases, a string of pearls and matching earrings were presented, and added to my outfit.

When Margret deemed everything in place, she bid me a good evening and departed to her own dinner, the timid maid in tow.

Punctual as always the door was once again knocked at seven o'clock, and I joined my assemblage for the walk to dinner. We ambled along the Promenade deck; it was a bitterly cold night. The ocean was so smooth it looked like a sheet of glass; the stars had an incomparable brilliance. Even though the moon had yet to rise the starlight more than compensated for it.

The first class dining saloon was upon Deck D, and span the whole width of the ship. It could easily serve several hundred people, and yet the small, elegant tables had an intimate feel. The ceilings curved into detailed mouldings, supported here and there by thin white columns. A plush, patterned carpet covered the floor, while the tall windows were frosted adding only to the intimacy of the experience.

Upon arriving, we were quickly greeted by the saloon steward, and shown towards the large circular table on the port side of the ship. The captain's table. I recognized Captain Smith from a photograph that had been published in The Atlantic Daily Bulletin; he was an elderly man of average height and stature, a short well maintained white beard, and an air of general politeness about him.

He stood along with another three gentlemen; one with a curled moustache was introduced as Mr Joseph Ismay, the others a Mr Bell and Mr Andrews respectfully. Upon the ladies having taken their seats, the men soon followed. I sat between mother and George and across from Mr Andrews; who I learnt from the conversations was Titanic's naval architect.

I listened to conversations about the ship speed, the economy and general merchant shipping talk, before joining the two women in idle chit chat about spring fashions and the delights of the Russian ballet. Father seemed to have found a group of men he could easily converse with, and seemed even more jovial in the niche.

A stream of black-jacketed waiters bearing the usual silver platters appeared at our table, offering only the finest of service. I elected not to drink wine, and satisfied myself with ice water instead. Although generally preferring the taste of mutton, the lamb served was delicious.

Throughout the meal, on a slightly raised platform, the orchestra played their quiet stirring melodies in the background. Adding to the ambience of conversation, and merriment that the copious amounts of wine were having on diners. It was nine o'clock when Captain Smith retired, returning back to his duties on the bridge.

By the time dessert came around, I could barely savour my peaches in Chartreuse jelly, for it was the final round in a ten strong course menu. I politely declined the fresh fruit or cheeses that were available, instead nursed a coffee. The meal went on well into the night, and by the time the gentlemen of the table had drank their port, it was well past eleven.

Feeling like I should never care to eat again, we began the walk back to the rooms. Following our walk down the decks, came the faint hum of the music that lingered in the air.

We bid a good night to the Marvin's, and lost them down the corridor.

"Good night, Isabella." Mother kissed my cheeks, still giddy from the copious amounts of wine she drank.

"Good night." I replied, sharing a hidden smile with my father. He rolled his eyes in the direction of his wife, gently guiding her towards their room and ushering her in.

The timid maid from earlier had once again been dispatched to my aid, undoing the same buttons she had slaved over previously. Helping me to remove the multitude of pins holding up my hair, and placing all the jewellery back into their designated boxes. She left having barely uttered two words to me.

I became idle in readying myself for bed, sitting in my half corset and chemise at the vanity. My attention taken by my book, and many failed attempt to brush out my hair.

Merely half an hour had passed when I heard it, a low rumble from far below that vibrated through my feet. It took my attention for merely half a minute, so I thought nothing of it. A common occurrence for the engines to make such sounds, but then there was silence. The atmosphere had changed, no longer could I hear the constant, soothing vibration of the engines, and my ears felt a little hollow. Briefly, I mused over the reason, but the words in my book soon enticed me to carry on reading.

When the carriage clock in the shared living suite tolled twelve times, I finally put by book away and started preparations for bed. Washing my face clean of the pale powder, and scrubbing my nails free from dirt. From the lone standing chest of draws, I selected a night dress, throwing it messily on the bed. I tied my hair back in a braid ready for the morning, and began to unlace the back of my corset.

But upon merely undoing the knot at the center, the sound of voices and footsteps in the corridors stopped me dead. Although I could not hear the articulation of the conversation, I could tell it was rushed. The voices suddenly stopped, and a pair of footsteps rushed off down the hall.

I grabbed the house gown from the hook in the wardrobe, pulling it on and tying the strings tightly around my waist. Curiosity had got the best of me. I went for the door, intending to open it just a tad and see what the commotion was about.

But as my hand reached for the handle a sharp knock echoed against the wood. I reeled backwards, almost tripping on the hem of the gown, and quickly threw my hand across my mouth to stifle a scream of surprise. I could hear my heart beating loudly in my chest, and a flush of heat reach my cheeks. Attempting to calm my rapid heart rate, I took several deep breaths and gingerly went for the door.

Standing formally at the threshold was the staterooms assigned stewardess, her eyes were hard but she remained completely composed.

"Good evening, Miss Swan." She began. "Forgive my intrusion. But you need to put on something warm, and report to the Boat Deck with your life vest."

"Life vest?" I questioned quietly.

"No need to worry, Miss, simply a routine drill. I have been notified that your family will meet you on deck." She bowed politely, and continued down the line of staterooms.

I suppose a drill was a uniform part of traveling by ship, so I took my time putting on a simple but thick day dress. Adding a pair of lace up leather boots, and a large fur trimmed coat. It was only when I felt quite ready to brave the decks, did I finally find my life vest hidden under my bed.

I heard the call of my name the moment I stepped from my stateroom, and waited patiently for George to catch up.

"What is going on?" I asked, hooking my arm in his as we joined a mass of people climbing the Grand Staircase. There was a deep frown pressed firmly into his brow, he clearly was not happy with these events.

"They say it's just a routine drill." George stated, opening the door for me as we made our way onto the open deck. When we stepped outside, the sudden exposure to the icy air made me suck in a short breath. A routine drill in such dire temperatures was sheer madness.

"This is absurd. The White Star Line will certainly be hearing from me." A woman close to us complained loudly, her companions nodding in agreement.

On the open deck the ships officers and seamen were uncovered the large lifeboats, dragging the large canvases to the side. Groups of passengers huddled in small groups, merely looking on with interest. Some had simply thrown on thick coats over night garments, slippers still adorned their feet.

"There you are." Mother's voice caught my attention, she and Mrs Marvin bounded towards George and I. Both wearing their life vests and unhappy scowls. Mother's hair was in a messy up-knot and there was very little powder upon her face. She had retired for the night.

"This is absurd." She huffed, her usual beaming face was hard and her eyebrows pulled down into that famous frown.

"I have sent Christopher to find out what is going on." Mary stated, looking around for her husband.

"Mother, they say it is just routine, I am sure everything is fine. Besides Titanic is the finest and safest ship afloat, it is practically unsinkable." George tried to reason with the slighted women. I nodded in agreement with him, trying to calm the nerves of my own mother.

The officers were calling for people to board the lifeboats, no one volunteered at first. Then gingerly a few women stepped forward, they were quickly ushered into the boats. I did not want to leave the warmth of Titanic; sitting in a boat teetering over the brooding black sea did not take my fancy.

A tremendous burst of steam screamed from the funnels, making everyone - including myself - jump a mile.

The huddled groups of passengers began to speculate this was not merely a drill, some thought we must have hit another ship, other said an iceberg.

"Women and children first." There were shouts from every direction, the atmosphere had become quiet and tense. For over an hour we stood on the ice cold deck, even the hot beverage did nothing to warm us up. Father and Mr Marvin had come and gone, determined to get answers from someone.

It was only when a great flash of white light and strange whistle sounded, followed by an explosion that lit up the night sky, did people start to move towards the lifeboats. They were no fireworks, they were distress rockets. The Titanic was in distress.

"What is going on Christopher?" Mary cried, as the two gentlemen re-joined our group.

"We have had a collision with an iceberg, and the ship is taking on water." By father replied, offering his arm to mother.

"We must find a lifeboat then." George stated, I nodded in agreement. Across the deck I saw Margret about to get into a lifeboat, picking up a small boy like a sack of potatoes as his mother struggled to get him in.

An officer guided us towards lifeboat six along the port side of the ship, partially occupied by first class women. It was social etiquette, women and children first; the men would simply join us later. With much persuading and a stern look from my father, mother eventually got in the boat.

"Stay safe, George." I kissed his cheek and hugged him.

"You too, my dear." He whispered. We parted, as a seaman helped me into the wooden life boat. Husbands and sons escorted their female companions to the boats then calmly promising to join them later on. The last view I got of my father was the sight of him lighting up a cigar, top hat in place and smoking easily amongst the commotion.

Boat number six was only half full when it was launched, four seamen accompanied us. I could not comprehend the situation; it was like a bad dream that couldn't possibly be true. Slowly the lifeboat was lowered along the side of Titanic, the water level had risen and we hit it with a dull thud.

The bow was almost touching the water as we rowed away from the ship. I could not take my eyes from the sight of Titanic, her bow now at water level. Every porthole eliminating light across the barren sea, another distress flare shot into the sky.

It seemed like hours and hours of endless rowing, but never truly gaining ground. Titanic remained in our sights, sinking lower and lower into the Atlantic. Then, like the ship herself was crying, she moaned a loud and haunting sound, quickly followed by an enormous din of shattering glass and crashing metal from deep within her bowels. From the deck, people began to jump, other scrambled towards the stern in a hopeless effort to save themselves.

No one spoke, or perhaps even breathed. The horror of her last moments were too awful to watch, but impossible to look away. Suddenly one of the large funnels ripped free and smashed into the sea, like watching a silent motion picture her front rose higher and Titanic broke in two.

The stern was lifted vertically into the air, the lights flickered and went out. Distant screams could be heard as people were thrown off or tried to hang on. Like a shadow against the light of the Northern star Titanic gave one final moan and slipped under the waves with stately grace.

The worst was yet to come, hundreds of shrieks of the dying filled the night, each one frenzied and terrified. My ears were assaulted with the noise of cries, as we remain still quite close to the wreckage.

"We must go back." An older lady shouted.

"No!" One of the seamen yelled. "They will swamp the boat, we will capsize."

"Do you think I care? My husband and son are out there." She shouted again, there were shouts of agreements.

After a great deal of arguing and a good deal of money promised to the seamen, they were persuaded to turn around. Slowly we began rowing back towards the people, I prayed we would find Father, George, and Mr Marvin.

But the seamen in our boat were no fools, for no sooner had we reached the first of the casualties, did a great assault take place. Fingers came from the inky water, grabbing onto the side of the boat and pulling with weak might. The wooden lifeboat rocked violently from side to side, tipping closer and closer to the black void. One jolt too far and the whole port side came level with the water. Women screamed and held on tightly to the benches, but my grip faltered and into the Atlantic I fell.

My head went beneath the icy water, taking the air straight from my lungs and plunging my body into numb pain. It was freezing, like pin pricks against my body. The sound of my own heart beat loudly in my ears, drowning out any other noise. I tried to scream, but the only sound that came from me was a quiet whimper. A futile attempt to swim against the strong currents was pointless, only making my limbs cramp with spasms of pain. I floated in the darkness for what seemed an age, too weak to swim anymore. It was only when something solid touched my arm did I attempt to move, grabbing onto it in dire panic. It was rough under my cold fingers, a large piece of debris.

Using every last bit of strength I possessed, I managed to haul myself upon it. Collapsing in exhaustion and giving in to the darkness.

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><p><em>AN: This chapter is the second in my re-editing (the first being my preface), in the hopes of repairing spelling mistakes and such. Of course the writing of new chapters is my priority, but when I have a spare moment editing shall be done. _

_Information gathered from a selection of newspaper articles I have from 1912 as well as The Diary of Margaret Anne Brady. Although the diary is fictional, the information is highly informative and taken from the accounts of survivors. _


	3. Chapter Two: Veni, Vidi, Vici

Chapter Two: Veni, Vidi, Vici

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Throughout the sweltering wastelands, some thirty miles northeast of Santiago de la Monclova, the sound of thunder clashed violently amongst the desolate surroundings. A far as the eye could see, and onwards towards the orange glow settling on the horizon, there remained nothing but barren land and mountainous regions. As the spires of craggy rock grew vertically from the sands, the echoes of rumbles bounced from their surfaces, cracking through the humid air and foretelling yet another desert storm.

But this eve there was no such weather phenomenon, instead the noise resounded from the destructive power of marble against marble. Beasts barely held within the image of humanity raged violently against one another, as two sides fought to claim a strip of land and scabrous mount.

The scorching oppressive atmosphere remained so even as the sun began its decent into the horizon. On the barely present wind, sand and smoke curled and danced. While ash clung to clothing and skin. Every second that my eyes flickered shut, an accumulation of cinder adhered upon them. Yet the embers were caused by no mere fire. The fuel was not coal or wood, but something that burned with all the fierceness in which it lived.

And as I tore apart the remainders of the being beneath me, it occurred at just how brilliantly flammable the venom of an immortal could be. Combusting savagely, eating away at our once impermeable skin, and leaving behind a pile of ash and a violet hued smoke.

With fingers dripping with a mixture of claret and vampire venom, I threw the decapitated head of my foe towards an already extensive blaze. Wiping the reminisce of my victim on the ruin of my once pretty blouse. From the depth of my chest, resounding outwards through my throat came a rumble that was in no way human.

Using thread bare boots I kicked up a cloud of sand, using it as a diversion to seek out the dwindling number of the enemy. Anyone would suffice. With talons outwards I scraped along the air, looking for anyone I could not recognize as my one side. And skirting along the side of the smoke cloud dawned the being I was going to disembowel next.

He was stout, well built, with an array of jagged and deep scars. The most prominent one cut down from his cheek, curving in line with the bone, until it met his upper lip. The silver slithers visible against the pale hues of his skin, a faulty shimmer in the last of the day's sun. He looked around surreptitiously, dragging in deep haggard breaths of the tarnished air, searching for something to maul. I was much smaller than he, and moved along with the dispersing smoke screen, out of sight. As the wind swirled the clouds forward I implemented myself upon his person, mouth wide and teeth bared at his neck. But he too was quick, biting down on my skin and slicing open the flesh with a burn of poison. Tossing me to one side, and preventing further growth to the open wound along his scalene muscle.

From the sands I propelled myself once again, adeptly ducking away from his great arms and moving swiftly behind. Into the slowly healing hole in his neck I stuck my hand through, grabbing a hold of his spinal column and pulling with all my might. The bones made a shattering sound, while muscles and soft tissue came away with little resistance. Onto my skin gushed a mixture of the venom, and the blood of his victims that had been absorbed by his body.

No matter how hard he instinctively fought, nothing could cure the ailment I had brought upon him. And with one last mighty pull, his head came away from his torso. His body first dropping to its knees, before falling lifelessly to the ground.

I ripped and tore the corpse into smaller chunks, a greater surface area for the fire to burn through, and little chance of the vampire healing. As I watched the lumps of flesh, bone, and other such bodily weights burn and crackle, I became aware of my own elbow re-joining at the hinge. My own toxin bubbled and spat in the open wound, festering together the fibres of my tissue and knitting it all back together. Leaving only a thin off coloured scar on pale skin.

The shrieks and screams that had once married together with the sound of clashing bodies, now all but diminished. Through the rolling clouds the vision of figures could be seen, emerging through the smoke with a sinister notion. From their individual scents, hard faces of satisfaction, I identified these beings as allies. Some still snarled, looking around frantically for something else to appease their bloodthirsty lust for confrontation. Biting and snapping at each other, goading to sink their teeth into a deal of flesh.

I could sense an approaching presence from behind, swift through the sand and lurking like an unwelcome force. He stopped within half a yard of my stance, far too close, and far too domineering.

"Isabella." He called my name, rolling out the syllables in his accent. "Another victory for us."

"Indeed." I replied with a cold indifference, fighting against the tensing of my muscles as he stepped directly to my side. Leaving now only a meagre distance between our arms. "Looks like we have taken losses." I declared.

"Two, maybe three. But there are plenty more where they came from." He replied, roving his burgundy eyes over the left over stock. The army looked back at him with a subordinated gaze, young ones swaying and shaking, trying to control their pent up anger. There were three other males that joined our immediate left, standing a great deal more controlled, with scars aplenty, and a stare that held crimson. There were five of us in total, standing stoic opposite a line juveniles. There had once been six of us supposed _elders_, but it seemed the battle had claimed the life of one of us. "I think a well-deserved hunt is in order." Horace declared, passing me by to address the others.

"Very well." I nodded, tearing off the ripped sleeve of my distasteful blouse. I did not toss the worn fabric into the still smouldering fire, primitively I held onto it, planning on tearing into strips to make ties for my long hair. It was either that, or find a female victim who possessed some ribbon, but I disliked stealing from the dead.

"Hunting." Horace announced aloud, enjoying the way his voice made the newborns shudder. "Once again, you are to hunt in your designated groups. Do not linger, and make sure you are not seen. For recruitment is coming soon." He threatened, making sure they all recalled how disposable they all were. It was followed by the growls of the three males upon this side, before they bolted forward and directing the newborns towards appropriate hunting destinations. Primarily they went off in search of isolated farming communities, where no one would miss a couple of mortals.

Horace ran westwards, towards a large town and undoubtedly the slums. He liked to slink through the squalor, selectively picking out the victims that fit his type. Having no desire to be a part of his ritual, I ran east towards the darkest part of the sky as the sun set.

The vegetation grew denser, as the small town of Cuatro Cienegas appeared on the horizon, lying on the forefront of the great national park. I traversed downwards along the dirt tracks, avoiding the main road that ran through the town in fear if being seen. Meandering along the back of the buildings, and eventually finding my way into the back alleys. When I was sure there were no witnesses, I darted between two wooden clad houses, and from one, the stench of ale signalled this was indeed the local tavern. Inside the restless banter of people was audible on the street, drinking away their problems and woes. All I had to do was wait, and soon the reward stumbled into the street, reeking of alcohol. He made a grab for his horse's reins, missing completely and slumping to the ground in a heap. His dark hair and skin covered in sand, giving an almost ghostly appearance.

"Hola Senor." I greeted, as he spun around with an unsteady wobble. Straining his eyes to take in my appearance, and rubbing his hand over his face. When his focus repaired itself, and I came a little way out of the shadows, he was able to view me clearly. The usual response transpired.

"H-hola." Now stuttering, like the idiotic drunken fool he was. I smiled shyly, doing my best to impersonate something akin to a siren, and announced aloud a sickening giggle. He was hooked, failing to note my crimson eyes, or perhaps overlooking them completely.

"Por favor, ayúdame." I made my voice quiver with a pitiful desperation. The young male nodded eagerly, and followed me blindly into the tiny alley. The moment I which he left the safety of the light, I had pinned him to the wall kissing the hollow of the tanned neck. He moaned in pleasure, I could feel the blood pumping from beneath the thin partition of skin separating me from my meal. Patience had never been my forte, and soon my teeth cut cleanly through the skin on his neck breaking into the jugular vein. Blood spurted into my hungry mouth, as lips clamped around the wound slowly sucking the warm scarlet liquid.

The corpse hit the floor with a thud, the males once dark skin was considerably lighter. Hungrily licking the last of the remaining liquid from my lips, satisfied that the consumed alcohol had not tainted his blood. I felt disgusted upon looking at the body that lay at my feet, and effortlessly dragged him away. Heading back towards the safety of the cluster of tree some three miles away. I dumped the body under the roots of a large scraggy tree, it was unmarked, unknown. But there was little need to linger, and so I departed.

As the waxing moon hung in the now darkening sky, I reached the edge of the salt plains. The temperature was cooler due to the wind and the exposed ground; it blew north to south, and directly at me, bringing with it the advantage of scents. A vampire approached from the distance, his gingery countenance smothered with the sweet smell of a recent kill. With nothing but low lying shrubs in the area, he spotted me easily and headed directly over.

"Good hunt, Isabella?" The vampire named Percival questioned, stopping next to me with a good three yards between us. He was tall, much more so than I, with a mass of shaggy hair that fell across one eye, and a grin to match.

"It was satisfactory." I replied. "I see you have been productive." Gesturing to the blood that had splattered over his once crisp shirt.

"It was indeed very productive, this one put up a good fight. Even attempted to stab me with a knife." He laughed, placing his hands upon his head. This man was undoubtedly one of the finest fighters I had come across. Since awakening around three years ago he had been a key asset to the group. But his was his cruel sense of humour, and crueler actions towards newborn training that set him apart as one of Horace's closest allies. His skill had subsequently kept him alive long enough for us to establish a friendly countenance. "Unfortunately I had that Thomas fellow following me around, talking a good deal of nonsense. Thinks he wants to implement himself into the group, now that Ruth has gone an' gotten herself killed."

"Did you see what happened to her?" I wondered. "One moment she was behind me, the next moment out of sight."

He shrugged. "No idea. She was a strange one, can't say I'm going to miss her. But Thomas thinks he's next in line to take her place."

"Well he can think again, the little bastard. So high and mighty." I replied, casting a narrowed frown across the barren lands. "What has he been saying?"

"Thinks we should try to convince Horace to tackle the armies to the south." Percival announced, clicking his neck.

"And what does he know of armies to the south? Does he know we stand little chance as we are? Such limited number against the likes of the group in Parrals, or even Maria. We should be ripped into parts." I spat, internally growling at the thought of such an underling

"I left the little prat hunting alone, never met someone who talks so much but speaks so little truth." He stated. "Can't entice meal with jabberer on my back."

"It would be a very poor shame for something to happen to Thomas, don't you agree?" I suggested innocently. "Not the finest of fighters, imagine if someone were to simply turn upon him… but at least we can rest assure that recruitment is fast approaching. Replacements can be found."

"Ma'am, should such a thing occur to little Thomas, I should turn a blind eye. Or maybe, should my anger get the best of me, because now and again it does, I should hope to be the one tearing that man into fire sized bits." Percival declared with a lowly type of chuckle.

"Then I should turn my eye blind to such an event." Said I.

"A mutual agreement for murder." He announced with a pleasing tone. "I like how we have such agreements, makes for a much easier kind of life. I am beginning to lose count of how many have mysteriously met their demise after our little discussions."

"More than I could count on one hand." I responded. "But I am content with my placement within this…lifestyle, and should anyone wish to topple me from my spot. I whole heartedly hope they suffer the cruellest of fates."

"Have you no wish to climb higher?" He suggested with a little care and attention to his words.

"Higher?" I echoed; bring my gaze from the salt plains to face him. "I can go no higher in my ranking; through age and experience alone I am below…I am below Horace. What do you mean by your words?"

"Mutiny." He declared with an excitable bite. "Do you not think we grow tired of Horace? With his ploys, his adventures off north for months at a time. Have you not led us in his wake?"

"I have done what was needed." I stated bluntly. "And who is this _we, _you speak of?"

"Silas, Levi, and myself." He confirmed. "We have spoken of this topic over the past months, ever since Horace returned from his last expedition. He never states where he goes, occasionally returns with a newborn, we do not trust him. And since his last journey have you not noticed his distraction?"

I nodded in confirmation that I had indeed noted such preoccupation within our sire.

"He may be a fine fighter, but he is no match for the likes of the four of us." He stated with assurance.

"And then what do you suppose? That I become the leader? That I have any such inclination to put myself in harm's way, have any desire to be responsible for an army of rabid newborns." I argued with a battle like hiss.

"But you have done it before, on many an occasion." He retaliated. "Did we not gain over fifteen kilometres the last time Horace was away, and what now? Since he has returned nothing but a measly four. I know you do not trust him."

"Sweetling, my hatred of him is paramount." I declared. "From his stories of Benito's great army, to the deception he creates with his fabricated lies. Nothing would make me happier than his demise. But I have no desire to take up his position; I am content at where I lie. However that is not to say another cannot take up the station, why not you, Percival? What if I were to be destroyed, could you not imagine yourself in control? Have you not always wanted to climb?" I dalliance the idea before him.

"I cannot deny the very thought had passed through my mind." He confirmed, looking to the sand as if they could save him from my questioning. "But you should be assured we would never up rise against your ruling."

"That is a promise you cannot keep." I told him. "And one I would not flatter myself in believing. But know one thing, if you should go ahead and do such a thing I shall not stand in your way."

He considered me for a moment, watching my face for something, maybe gratification to my seriousness. "Suppose I do…do you think it is possible?"

"You know the rules; you know the ins and outs as well as I do." I summed, walking around him with a predatory arch. "And if I had any such compassion, I might say I had faith in you. Now I'm going to head back, I don't want Horace to come searching."

I had seen, and been witness to enough carnage over my six years of existence to have developed a certain desensitization towards most things. The act of killing another being was a normal occurrence in this life, and within the realm of a fight, within the excitement and frenzy of attacking, destroying another vampire was something I had come to view as a triumph. For the most while, and a good proportion of those six years, nothing about this life had truly bothered me. Having awoken with no recollection of ever being mortal, I had clung to the very ideology and the fixed routine of militia life.

But after so many years, my mind had begun to wander with the possibility that there must be a certain degree of life outside our fight. I knew how to read and write, I could speak three languages, I was in no way limited in my knowledge, yet I had no recollection of learning such things. Therefore I was not naïve in my information, it was just I had never bore direct witness to the items I knew.

While I never quite trusted the stories Horace spoke, everyone knew of the Volturi, the notorious coven who resided in Volterra, and kept a vice like grip on the rules of the vampire world, through the implementation of their unmatchable guard members. That was just one group. Our very existence broke one of the Volturi's fundamental rules, but that clearly meant there were obviously other nomads and covens who did follow the laws. Others out there in the wider world.

Then came the question, just how could I possibly stay within the confines of such an abominable existence, when there could be greater ventures, and freedom away from scorching salt plains. The only thing standing in my way was Horace, my bastard of a sire and his formidable tracking. Surely I could not find fault in his methods, no finer seeker had I ever come across. He could track a single person across the entirety of the America's if he so desired. And with his strange and misconceived notion that something of a sexual escapade could transpire between the two of us, I was keen to have this man disposed of.

With Percival and his _friends_, discussing a mutinous mission of murder, and a subsequent take over. Perhaps leaving was finally falling towards being a possibility. If not, I had no qualms about destroying Percival too; he was less of a threat than Horace.

It was now just a question of when and where.

* * *

><p>That very moment was a long time coming, some several months later, after a small scuffle with an inconsequential group some hundred miles east of Camargo. All, bar one of us had survived the altercation, and seeing as recruitment had taken place a month prior, one little number was hardly a blip.<p>

The little blip had been Thomas, for he had failed to move out of the way when Percival ran for him, tore his head clean from his torso. Horace bore witness to nothing, and even if a couple of newborns saw the hit, they wisely said nothing. One issue down. The ranks closed inwards, and he was unmissed. It was a partly unplanned killing, while premeditated, the execution came quickly and I was a little surprised. But Percival had obviously decided his ideas of mutiny, would continue onwards without me at the helm.

I could not have been more delighted.

Like always after a conflict, Horace dismissed the newborns away to hunt. Both of the bulky vampires Percival had named as his co-conspirators, disappeared off to watch over the very newest of our recruits. Leaving Horace, Percival, and myself to wait back at the derelict farm we presided in; after killing off the human family.

"Shame about that boy, Thomas was it?" Horace began, strolling along what once was a kitchen garden, and treading down the now overgrown Epazote patch.

"Yes." I confirmed, standing with my back against the garden wall and opposite him. Percival stood tall and wide at the entrance, his head almost hitting the broken arched trellis above him.

"Did you see it happen?" Horace questioned leisurely, leaning back on a poorly constructed stone bench. "What killed him?"

"No." Percival stated vaguely.

Horace looked at him pointedly, almost sensing the lie that came from his mouth. "I saw it." I lilted, swinging his entire attention to me. "He got a little too over confident, didn't protect himself. That large female took a swipe at him, took his head straight off."

"Foolish boy." Horace decided, never questioning that I should have the audacity to lie to him. "He always seemed the over confident type, but never mind. He was an accidental recruitment, and we have plenty more."

"Indeed." Percival agreed tersely, seemingly more focused on the growth of the vines next to him than the conversation at hand.

"Well then, no one will miss him so let us change the topic at hand." Horace declared, suddenly sitting forward on his bench, forearms resting on his knees and looking at the both of us intently. "So new topic… and seeing as we are all together. I have decided upon a matter of great and substantial importance."

I pushed off from the wall in preparation, the white wash paint flaked from the brick in my wake and falling about my heels. In an increasingly rhythmic motion I dragged my fingers through my hair, brushing out the tangles in the snarls, and awaiting what was sure to be an interesting conversation. "Are you to journey away?" I wondered.

"No, no, it is much more enterprising than that, Isabella." He laughed. "Something that is going to secure _our, _position within this northern territory." He gestured repetitively between himself and I. "_We_ possess enough men to deliver a challenge."

I pondered first over his words. We currently held a good portion of the northeast, sufficient enough to warrant control over the states of Coahuila and Nuevolean. But to truly declare ourselves holders of the north, that would mean controlling both Chihuahua and Sonora. These were strong hold of a notorious band of vampires. "You cannot possibly be suggesting an altercation with the Parrals?!" I interrogated in alarm, taking a forward stance as I sort to be proven wrong.

He merely smirked, brushing back the dirty blonde hair from his pale face and looking of so very smug with his announcement. "We have the numbers, why ever not?"

"We should never stand a chance." I retaliated, barely controlling my shout. "Every scout we have sent out has never returned."

"Those scouts were nothing but failures, pitiful fighters; I didn't expect a single one back." Horace replied with a lofty wave.

"But we have no knowledge of them." Percival interjected, uncrossing his muscular arms and flexing out his fingers. "We do not know of the gifted they may possess, this could be a suicide mission."

"Or it could be an opportunity for us, a chance for us to finally make a move. And a significant one." Horace argued, his burgundy eyes glinting as he rose to his full height.

"But you are suggesting we go in blind, I cannot condone such a risk. The odds are not in our favour." I tried again, hoping my words would have some effect upon his clearly ill-fated idea.

"Well then, it is a good job you are not in duty, Isabella." He chuckled again, using my name as some kind of pet tag. "For I am taking the liberty of telling you what is going to happen, I have no care to your opinions." He walked towards me, laundering his significant height over mine. "Now, let's start hearing some more constructive strategies, from you."

He was far too close, standing within my delegated space. The garden wall surrounding us on all sides, and I could see no form of escape. "Remove yourself." I warned him, quelling a rage.

"That's what I want from you." He said, leaning down to my level. "I need your aggression, and your ruthless. Have you not always been known for such sadistic behaviour?"

"I am giving you a warning." I told him between a hiss.

"You were the most ironic mortal I had ever come across, but all in all I think changing you was a mighty fine idea." He ignored my threat like I was a meaningless child.

I watched my curled hands and talon like fingers strike forward, with the intent of plunging themselves into his orbitals. Gouging out his burgundy eyes. But where I had expected to be met with retaliating arms, none such came. And my fingers delved into the sockets, pressing the organ back into his skull. How good it felt.

In a disgustingly macabre move, I deconstructed his face. Spurred onwards by the screams he made, the violent spasms of his body, I could barely control my movements. Through sheer ripping, and tearing off chunks of flesh, eventually he was merely a headless corpse. And it was clear to see that Percival had been the one to implement himself upon Horace, holding back his arms to stop any such fight back.

The corpse dropped from his arms, slumping into the vegetable patch with a lowly thud.

"Well I'll be damned." Percival announced, stepping on some fleshly remains and pulling a slightly disgusted face. "That was easier that I had thought."

"Quickly." I demanded. "We have to dispose the body. Before the newborns return from their hunt, I do not trust those juveniles. Grab him, and I shall collect up the…bits."

I ransacked the farmhouse in a panic, looking for some kind of mesh tote, or a flour sack, but had to make do with one of the human's old shirts that we had been using as a window black out. By hand I collected up the little parts of him, dumping them, and a hefty load of dry soil, into the cradle I had made.

We ran a good distance north, in a direction that lacked any such human activity and thusly the attentions of the newborns. Behind a large outcrop of rocky spires, we pulled apart his body. Put them down with the shirt, and set the whole pile alight. We stood well back, watching him burn, making sure he should not rise again.

"He's finally dead." Percival stated.

"Truly." I confirmed aloud.

"No matter what you have said, you are in control of us now." He responded, watching me carefully.

I could not take my eyes away from the strange violet tint the fire had, or the way it stained the billows of smoke as they rolled across the land, and took flight to the air. The creature that had tormented me for all those years had now been reduced to nothing but a pile of diminishing ash. But it was a strange emotion that befell me, while I did not regret what we had done; I had inadvertently put an end to the structured routine of my life. A routine that had seen me through the most impossible first years of my existence. So I found something felt a little hollow within me.

"I cannot." I told him. "I think it is time for me to leave."

"Leave?" He questioned, tasting the word as if the concept were foreign. "Leave and go where?"

"I don't know, isn't that the exact point of exploration?" I retorted, digging the toe of my boots into the sand, and kicking up enough debris to begin starving the fire. "I have been in this desert for far too long, there must be other exciting ventures out in the wider world."

"Is there not venture to be had here?" He tried.

"Not for me. At least, not anymore. I am weary of the same sights, the same smells. I am weary of the fight. I am leaving." I declared.

"And what if I should adjure that you cannot leave." He stated bluntly.

"Then I should rip out your throat and leave anyhow." I told him. "And the same should apply if you make an attempt to track me down."

He laughed out a great bark, casting a triumphant look at the smouldering fuel. "I should expect no less from you, I shall have to make an attempt to replicate that facial break down. It's like I've had an anatomy lesson. But I suppose this is farewell then." Came his final accession.

"Farewell, indeed. I shall wish you luck in the future, Percival. Let us hope you survive long enough to reap the rewards of your work."

We parted ways with the agreement of a murder well accomplished, he ran back towards the farmstead, and I north towards the border.

* * *

><p>Edited as of 2007/2013


	4. Chapter Three: Amber

Chapter Three: Amber

Missouri, 1918

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Through the sheer wilderness, and dense greenery I ran with a savage lust, eyes as black as coal and quaking with a hunger for something substantial. But things were far different than the ease I had left behind in the barren deserts. In a constant state of contention with everything surrounding me, the topography, the flora, and the fauna. Never had I been surrounded by such thickness, or had so much to contend with when attempting to find a meal. The cities all looked and sounded so heavily populated, I did not trust myself when it came to control. It would be far too easy to be spoilt by the choice, I knew myself well enough to know a blood frenzy was not out of my character traits.

The isolated farming communities were not so isolated out here; they seemed to be connected with local towns and villages. Finding a meal was not an easy task, when one wished to remain invisible. I prided myself on being clean and swift on a hunt, leaving little mess and reason for the likes of the Volturi to investigate. But goodness how hard it was this side of the border, everything was new and strange. Modernist ideas, creations, ways of thinking, I didn't understand the human world, not one little bit. This was far from the simplicity of desert dwelling.

I was hungry, more so than I had ever recalled being. All because I struggled to find the most successful way of going about my kill, nothing I had learnt in my six years seemed adept enough to be useful. Instead I vacated barely used roads, watching out for the occasional motorcar and a neatly presented meal. Other times it was distracted farmhands, far out in the fields and away from the large buildings and barns. But each time I would move on, the authorities were more organised and trained. Missing people were searched for, and so moving onwards was always required.

Other than the hunger, there was one more aspect I had come to find certain difficulty with, something I had never thought one like myself would ever become a victim of. I should never call it loneliness, but sometimes I did miss having another person to talk to. More often than not, I had found myself talking aloud, doing anything to fill the ever silent void that accompanied me wherever I seemed to run. And how pitiful I should congratulate myself on a hunt well accomplished, agree with a plan, or scold myself when something did not go to plan.

I had never been alone before. It was hard, I should wholeheartedly admit that. I missed the tenor of another voice, other opinions, and conversation in general.

Once or twice I had come across other nomads. The first had attacked me upon seeing the gashes across my arms, and I was forced to destroy him. The second pair seemed generally much more agreeable, but they too said vampires like me were not welcome within their territory, and I should move along without causing any trouble. I respected their rules and did as requested.

Vampires like myself were not looked upon with a great deal of fondness; I discovered that out very quickly. They assumed we were out recruiting, looking to cause trouble. But it was nice to merely see that other covens did exist outside the wars.

Now as my first proper winter finally set in, I found it even more difficult to feed, and to navigate with the frozen precipitation. Humans did not venture out as much when the weather was so bitterly cold, and thusly I aimlessly wandered the woodlands and along the roadsides, hoping to catch a lost hiker or aimless driver. For a good six days nothing came my way, and I began to slump deeper into a state of blood lust. The burning grew into something archaic of my newborn days, and I struggled to control the urge to give in and allow my instincts to take over. There were no other vampires to pull me away like before, no guiding enforcement of elders, just me, myself, and I.

But I was no fool. I had managed to survive this long, and would be damned to have the Volturi coming after me. So I began to search for any kind of isolated building that contained humans, at this point I'd kill an entire family should it help calm the raging fire and lust.

I never quite made it that far. For on the seventh day of my search for food, I stumbled upon the local fauna. Along a rocky outcrop, and looking a great deal angry, a shabby looking black bear prowled around. While I was quite sure it should have been far underground and within hibernation, it instead uselessly huffed and growled a throaty groan. I had seen bears before; while quite impressive I should not declare them anything special.

Yet this time I did not simply pass the animal by, I stood rooted to my spot. Inhaling and exhaling the scent of blood coming from its great mass, listening so intently to the thuggish constant beating of its heart. Never did I consider my next actions, until I had finished tearing open its neck, watching in crazed fascination as a river of crimson liquid stained my hands. But the pull was too much, and I pressed my mouth to the wound and drank in a feverish way. The gritty taste did nothing to dispel my desire, and onwards I fed, until not a drip remained within the beasts veins.

It was a disgusting turn of events, horrid and messy. But it was a good deal easier than having to track those pesky humans in the winter; I made the decision to keep hunting the big game, but remain vigilant for a human crossing my path. It would do for now.

* * *

><p>I swore to myself on a daily basis that there was surely something wrong with me, perhaps I had gone quite mad. For a vampire should not surely be able to survive so long without the nourishment of human blood, and yet the last correct meal I had consumed had been well over eighteen days ago. But thusly how easy it had been, animals were aplenty within the wilderness. Every run, every turn another within my line of sight. I could gorge myself silly on their blood, and no one would know any different. The taste left much to be desired, but convenience won out.<p>

It was much warmer now, and I was further north than I had previously been. While I wasn't quite sure my exact location, I thought somewhere around the great lakes was an appropriate assumption. It was surely the most beautiful of places I had yet to have visited, and I did so long to view the expanse of water. When I was able to rein in my control and successfully venture from the forests, I promised myself I should visit them. Never before had I bore witness to large amounts of water, maybe even one day I might even visit the coastline.

But for the moment, I liked to think I was living a relatively successful existence. For the first time in a long while, I cut a rather presentable look. The last time I had diverted from my primarily animal based diet, I found myself within a rather nice house, and although I usually frowned on stealing from the deceased, my clothes were nothing more than rags. In the bountiful armoire I found a selection of pretty dresses, and although I longed to wear one, it was simply impractical. I instead settled for a plain blouse and skirt, having to use a scarf to tie them tight around my waist.

I learnt a great deal from this household invasion, the main family lived in the glitzy and fashionable New York, and it turns out I had most probably made a victim of their gardener. Alas they had a great horde of newspapers on their mat, and I read several of recent ones, from cover to cover.

It seems while I had been fighting a war of my own, another had been taking place on an even larger scale. I had heard bits and pieces about the war the humans had named, _The Great War_, but it seemed to be on a much larger scale than I realised. The armistice having only been signed some six months prior. Mortals were capable of a great deal more inhumanities, than even our kind. The newspaper stated an estimation of over twenty million deaths in those four years.

On another brighter note, it seemed a former president had also passed away. And the current one had a strange name, and was now leading peace talks with the other victorious allied powers. But to each their own. They were a strange race, and one I could not help but feel isolated from.

Had it not been for the single item I still possessed on my person from seven years prior, I would never have considered myself ever being mortal. Yet hidden beneath the now pristine clothes I adored, and threaded through some braided twine around my neck, was a garish little ring. After awakening into this life, it had been the only recoverable item I had on me. One of the other females had told me it was the kind of thing you received upon becoming engaged, but surely such a thing could never happen to myself. For it would be far too strange to have been in such a predicament, and to have no recollection of the event or the relationship. I preferred to consider it an heirloom.

With it now safely tucked between my over-bust corset for keeping, I was able to run without the worry of losing the thing. Beginning a hunt alongside the direction of the wind, for animals had the added tact of being able to sense my presence. I ran for quite a while, heading further north than I usually did so, but the copious amount of elk really did not entice today, and I was after something a little more hefty. Should I be lucky maybe even one of the large grey wolves that seemed to be quite prolific in the area.

Unfortunately it seemed after a good deal of searching no such luck would befall me today, and instead I went after the usual bear that I had gathered a taste for. I had learnt to track the bears quite adeptly, so I doubled back on myself to follow the trails that they usually took. Running in the cross wind to avoid detection, and starting along some higher ground. Eventually after scouring the footfalls I came across what I was after, and set about taking down a decent meal that would keep me sane for a couple of days.

Within twenty yards of the hunt, everything came to an abrupt halt when a great force collided with me. Creating an explosive noise that ricocheted around the forest, and something that was easily identified as a vampire.

We hit the floor, snarling and biting at each other. He pinned my arms behind my back, a typical move for an adolescent vampire. Pushing my heels into the ground, I propelled myself upwards before falling backwards. The force sending the vampire crashing to the ground, with me on top. Baring my teeth, I aimed for his neck, fully intent to decapitate my foe.

"EDWARD!" A voice yelled from behind us, taking my attention from the near beheading, and then unfortunately finding myself on the other side of my foe. He managed to utilize his strength, once again grabbed my arms pinning me down, until his body weight rested upon mine. In such a precarious position, I inhaled an expanse of air preparing to scream something primal and inhibit this silly child.

"Edward let her go." The other vampire stated, his authoritative tone came with an almost pleading undercurrent. It didn't seem to be enough, for the vampire atop me did not move, and there was a terrible tense kind of silence. Luckily for this _Edward, _he decided removing himself from my person was a good idea, and avoided the shriek I was about to bestow upon him. He stood warily, still within a crouch, before stepping backward to join the other male. I took no time in standing, judging who dare attack me.

The juvenile vampire stood a good eight or nine inches taller than myself, with a slightly muscular frame, but not overly so. And on judging ages I would consider us to be physically around the same. His features were perfectly symmetrical, and indeed he was handsome like every other vampire. An individual feature he did have to recommend himself, was the strangely coloured hair he possessed. I should describe it as bronze, like a penny.

Vampire number two did not have such a lofty height, and was of an average build. Handsome too, with neatly styled blonde hair.

Nothing particularly out of the ordinary for both these vampire, that was except for the bizarre eye colours they both possessed. The one with the penny hair, had irises coloured with orange. And his counterpart had something akin to amber.

I stayed bent into a slight crouch, watching both of them with due care and attention for any sight of a hostile reception.

"Good afternoon." The blonde one began, keeping his hands directly at his side and making no sudden movements. "I'm Carlisle." He gestured to himself. "And Edward." To the juvenile.

I could not help but roll my eyes. "I dare say Edward and I are quite acquainted with each other, although I prefer a polite introduction, rather than such a brutish one." I stated, making a deal of brushing the dirt from my now torn clothes.

"Well my apologies." Carlisle replied. "There had been little chance for Edward to meet any of our kind, since awakening."

He was a newborn, he had all the traits of such, but his eyes had thrown me a curve ball when it came to deducing. "Understandable." I responded. "Can I presume you have claimed the land around here? I wish to know my boundaries." Stating my intention seemed to be a good way to stay out of trouble.

"Yes, we have permanent residency just northwest of here, from the coast in a twenty square mile radius, including the town of Ashville." Carlisle told me.

"Very well, I shall keep from passing through your lands. My apologies for straying into your territory." I announced, readying myself for a swift exit.

"One moment, if you please." Carlisle declared, placing one hand out as if he could physically stop my movements. "Can I inquire to your name?"

"My name?" I repeated, pondering over such a request, and how odd it was that he seemed genuinely interested in me. Maybe these different eyed vampires were more civil that the usual. Except for Edward, he still seemed like a brute. "I suppose I could tell you... I'm Isabella." It sounded quite different when hearing my own Christian name falling from my mouth, foreign, but all the more pleasant when it was not Horace calling it aloud.

They both exchanged a look, and I was confused to find them come to some sort of silent agreement. "Isabella, perhaps, you would like to talk somewhere more private.." Carlisle asked hopefully.

"Is this not private enough?" I wondered, gesturing to the dense forest around us.

"Ah well, how about more comfortable surroundings, then? We have a house on the edge of the national park. We could supply you with a new set of clothes, as an official apology." He tried again.

A house they had stated, very much like the Volturi and their permanent residency, except these two didn't seem to have a notorious guard. But it was still a very strange occurrence for them to be living like mortals, I was curious. It's not every day one runs into such people.

Perhaps it was naive of me to consider it, but they both had perfectly smooth and blemish free forearms, and that was usually where one receives the most scars when trying to defend yourself. So I considered that neither of them had any formal experience in the savage kind of fighting, and other than newborn strength being the issue, I considered my chances against them as quite fair.

"Very well." I agreed. Following their lead southwards, along the contours of the band of lakes. Once gain they had taken into consideration my possible hostile nature, allowing me to follow freely. Edward was faster; although I was unsure as to whether this was adolescent trait or just a lucky gift. Both were still ignorant to my scars, most hidden behind my clothing, I decided it was best this way. After recent encounters, I'd like this to remain as civil as possible. Until I knew what these strange vampires wanted from me, I would keep them ignorant.

We stopped running after a short while, keeping within the formation that had been set. And nestled deep within the greenery of this area, and very out of place, was a rustic shingle clad house. An average size build, and in keeping with what I presumed was the local architectural fashion. There was a wraparound porch that encroached the house, and although no formal flower beds or pots, there were wild flowers that gave the garden a rugged charm.

"How…nice." I commented. "And most peculiar."

"Yes, I dare say there are few who take permanent residence." Carlisle chuckled, although he seemed genuinely perturbed by that fact. He stepped upon the porch, taking a brass key from the pocket of his waistcoat and placing it in the lock. Both stepped in first, leaving it open for myself. My feet seemed to hesitate at first, but diligently I followed out of sheer curiosity.

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><p>Edited as of 2407/2013


	5. Chapter Four: A Brief History

_I am: The VII Duchess_

_Disclaimer: __I do not own the plot or characters to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Four: <span>A Brief History

1919, Fifteen Miles West of Ashland, Wisconsin

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I was not sure where quite to place myself. Standing up seemed too formal, yet sitting too informal. After watching Carlisle take a seat on a rather regal looking sofa, I slowly made my way to the large armchair opposite. Sitting on the very edge made me feel more secure about making a getaway if this _conversation_ went pear shaped. Edward stood to the left of Carlisle, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed against his chest while he stared directly at me. His posture in some way displeased me greatly.

"You have a lovely..home." I stated, unsure if that was really a good way to start a conversation. Apparently it was good enough, for Carlisle smiled and proceeded to thank me for the compliment.

"How long have you taken up this alternative diet?" He asked. My muscles flinched in response. Wondering how on earth he knew of my rather unique food preferences, _had they been watching me?_ Or perhaps it was a gift one of them possessed, either way I did not like it.

"How do you know of my diet." I bit, moving even closer to the edge of my seat. Carlisle looked completely baffled, and turned to Edward who merely shook his head in response.

"I didn't mean to offend, it's just...your eyes." He said softly.

"What about my eyes?" I demanded. Had these golden eye vampires never come across my kind, someone with red eyes? Even so, I pondered over what kind of gift could permit them to have such an unusual eye colour.

"Isabella, what colour are your eyes?" Edward asked, taking a step from the wall to stand at the side of the opposite sofa. I raised my brow at such a completely stupid question_._

"They are red." I stated slowly. They both exchanged a look.

"When was the last time you looked in a mirror?" Carlisle questioned. I was baffled; maybe they had gold eyes because they weren't all there in the head. That or it had been a very long time since they had been in the presence of a female.

"A while." I growled through my teeth. Carlisle asked Edward to go fetch a mirror, he moved at human pace as not to startle me. I was uncomfortable now, I did not like where this was heading. As soon as Edward returned with a pocket mirror, I stood and took it from his hand. Slowly bringing the reflective surface to my face. It looked to be exactly the same as when I had last looked. Until I looked into my own eyes. They were the same orange as Edwards.

"My eyes?" I mused aloud, scrutinizing my image in the small mirror.

"It would seem we share the same diet." Carlisle chuckled, gesturing for me to take a seat. I diligently complied, this time slouching into the cushioned upholstery. The same diet. Their strange eyes were not caused by a gift or some defect, but by their diet. So I really was not the only one who had chosen to partake within this lifestyle.

"I did not realize there were others who also decided on this diet."I summed. Sitting back in the large armchair, my feet did not touch the floor, instead dangled in midair.

"There are not many of us, a coven in Alaska consisting of five and the three of us." Carlisle explained, I nodded in calculation. He proceeded to tell me they too had a permanent residence, with the hopes of living alongside the humans. Both covens hoped to be more civilized. The whole notion made me feel quite inadequate, upon realizing that I did not solely drink from animals.

"You must understand that I do not do this for the preservation of human life." I told them bluntly. "Should a human cross my paths I shall hunt it." The look they seemed to exchange was most comical, and I deemed that this was the end of the meet and greet. We clearly did this for very different reasons.

"Can I ask you then…why? Surely the enticement of human blood must me more satisfactory?" Carlisle questioned, managing to gather up some of his disappointment to ask me. Edward seemed to hover closer with this news.

"Oh goodness, it is…but I shall be honest with you, for you have extended the same courtesy with me. I find hunting animals much easier than humans." I attempted, yet it only seemed to confuse the two. "Very well, I take it you haven't noticed them yet." I replied. When both proceeded to look blankly, I rolled up the sleeve on my ruffled cream shirt. Exposing the gashes and scars marrying my left arm. I gathered from the silent acceptance, both had put two and two together.

"The southern wars." Carlisle summed.

"Indeed. I have very recently cut loose from such an…occupation, and I am rather awkward when it comes to changing my hunting habit this side of the boarder. Animals pose no threat to my control, and I can eat as much as my heart's content."

"How did you come to the area?" Carlisle asked, seemingly digesting the information I had divulged.

"Just passing through. After I left my creator and his small group, I traveled alone and found this alternative way of life. I wanted somewhere far from the temptations of mass human civilization, my control is not something I would bet upon, and this area seemed perfect." I replied with a little lie.

"Why did you leave your creator?" Edward asked, there was a deep and troubled frown set into his angular features, clearly he was skeptical about my story. Carlisle gave me an apologetic smile, clearly thinking Edwards question was out of line.

"Very well, I didn't just leave, it was a little more difficult than that. I escaped after a disagreement within the group." I tried again. "May I ask how long you have been in the area?" Inquiring the attention away from myself, as I rolled my sleeve back down and fastening the button at the cuff.

"A little over a year, as you said the area is well suited for our needs. Before moving here I took up residence in Chicago, that is where Edward joined me." He explained. I had guessed correctly that Edward was a juvenile. What made little sense was a vampire like Carlisle within a city. Most human drinkers lived around city suburbs, for easy pickings. Cities were large places and people went missing all the time.

"I'm sorry but do elaborate, why a city? I mean if you drink from animals what business do you have within a city, surely the temptations of human blood must be overwhelming. Not to mention the lack of hunting ground." I mused, wondering if there was something I was missing. Carlisle made his residence seem so normal, while I had lived mostly in the wilderness since my awakening.

"Ah, but business is the reason. I move to places where I can take up employment, in the local hospitals." He smiled, probably at the look that had broken out across my face. I'm sure I looked quite puzzled.

"He's a doctor." Edward clarified.

I'm sure my brow rose in utter bafflement. He was a vampire doctor, a doctor and a vampire. There was something about those two statuses that my mind could barely comprehend. "Let me get this correct, a real doctor, one who practices medicine on the living. Not a quack doctor, or any other kind of fake version?" I tried.

"Indeed, a real doctor, a practitioner of medicine." He confirmed.

"Why, and how? What possesses you to want to be so close to the mortals? To aid them when their bodies fail?" I queried, a little in awe of this man.

"Well I suppose age has something to do with it, I was changed in the early sixteen sixties. Lucky enough to discover this alternative way of life quite quickly, so quickly in fact I never tasted human blood. Oh, of course I had blood lust like any newborn, but managed to hide myself away. Over the years my control became good enough, that I was able to overcome the lust. Although it did take a good two hundred years." He explained, it looked as though he was reliving the memories. " I have always wished to live an alternative way, to co-exist with the humans."

Amongst the hatred and cruelty of the vampire kind , Carlisle had created his own little world. A world that lived a very different way, where anything and everything seemed possible. A place where vampires could be doctors, and lived in houses. Perhaps he was naive to the real nature of vampires, or perhaps he was determined to prove others wrong. And bizarrely I found myself increasingly taken by his world.

"I think you have rendered me a little speechless." I replied, proceeding to stand from the large armchair. The carriage clock upon the fireplace mantel read quarter past six, the afternoon sun was beginning to linger and the sky began to lose its azure colour. A good time to leave and continue on a hunt. "But I shall trouble you know more, bid you farewell." I nodded my head in respectful thanks, with a new sense of encouragement from the vampire doctor, I felt ready to tackle whatever should come my way. It felt as if there was still hope for even someone like me, perhaps I could one day find a lifestyle niche such as he had.

"Isabella, I have to ask you this because…well I have never before come across a nomad like yourself. And please do not feel like I am pressuring you, but I wish to ask you whether you'd consider trying to remain on your animal diet, and stay with us?"

There was a very sad part of myself that had for these pasted months wished for a coven invite to fall my way, to have the group safety and social aspects to depend upon. These people seemed so pleasant, even Edward was tolerable. But giving up my human diet for good, was a dilemma. I liked hunting, the thrill and taste of a kill. But eighteen days had past since I had last tasted mortal blood, so it was possible for me to survive without it. Could I possibly pull my morals into this?

"Like I said, there are very few of us who share this different way. And I know from experience it can be incredibly hard being a nomad, not many people seem to be willing to understand when you have different traits." Carlisle finished.

He had appealed to the side of me that craved company, the side that had been rejected by those other nomads, and covens.

"Plus I think we still owe you a new set of clothes." Edward joked, the frown had dropped from his face I noted he had a charming smile.

I nodded. "Alright , I shall take up your offer. Not because I need a new set of clothes, although I must say it is very tempting. But what harm is there in trying something new, and maybe becoming a more civilized being. Consider yourself one member up."

"I am extremely glad you have decided as much." Carlisle smiled eagerly. "There is a spare room within the house which you are more than welcome to have." For the first time since awakening into this life, I had a bedroom. And although I wasn't quite sure what a vampire used a room for, I was quite pleased I had one. Carlisle proceeded to guide me to the stairs, to show me my room.

"Oh an Edward. It is you who owe me new clothes, for I don't remember Carlisle attacking me." I decided, grinning at the bronze haired vampire sitting on the sofa.

"Is it too late to revoke that invitation?" He laughed shaking his head. _What a little bastard._

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><p><em>Edited as of 2707/2013_


	6. Chapter Five: A Past Unknown

_Apologies for the slight delay, time sure does fly. Thanks to those who have put this story on alerts, __Grazie__mille! I big thank you to my friend, who told me (with a number of profanities) to get up and write. _

_So without further ado._

_I am: The VII Duchess_

_Disclaimer: __I do not own the plot or characters to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Five: A Past Unknown<span>

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Below the ornate sculpted mantelpiece, a diminishing fire burned within the deep hearth. Its heat pulsated which each flicker, warming the pale hues of my marble skin. Even though the warmth did not stick, the feeling was comforting. Each different wood used in the making of the fire gave out a unique scent, my personal favorite cedar. Its smell seemed to embed its way into house, I liked the way my clothes were fragranced with its perfume. Always surrounded by contentment.

That and the fact the smell of cedar kept moth larvae away from my new clothes.

For my armoire was packed full of an array of garments for every possible occasion. The very cause of my current wardrobe disposition was a Sears's catalogue. I didn't even need to leave the house to shop, just simply flick through the book and pick the dress I desired. They called it mail order. So I decided on a simple blue dress, long sleeves and high laced collar. Pretty but not overly flamboyant, something that would not draw attention to myself. After taking my sizes and writing them down, Carlisle said he would post the order on his way to work. Alas Carlisle was crafty.

A mere two weeks later the order arrived. Edward and I had gone hunting in order to avoid the human courier, returning to find my room completely taken over by packages. My blue dress had arrived. Along with every other garment from the catalogue. Carlisle had ordered everything, merely stating with a smile I would need more than one dress. I couldn't even come up with a clever reply, so in protest I had only wore the pale blue dress in the week following.

When it was clear the protest was having no effect; and Edwards laughing had finally subsided, I gave up and changed.

Although the sheer amount of clothing I now owned was staggering and probably rivaled that of a tailors shop. The amount of choice seemed to make me uncomfortable, a little lost. Fashion had moved on without me, I was no longer modern. The hemming and length of skirts and dresses had noticeable shortened, fabrics and patterns were more elaborate. It also became apparent showing ones ankles was no longer deemed unacceptable. Yet even with such adversary with my choices, the new styles were revolutionary. Whoever I might have been in the past was being reinvented. Having no memory of my life before became something of a blessing, in this second chance I had been granted I could be who ever I wanted.

Since living in such a refined and warm environment, had given me the chance to rediscover things I liked. Reading seemed to have become a favorite past time, I had a preference to romance novels but did not care for Edward's love of horror or Carlisle's medical journals.

I also discovered I liked Edward in small doses.

We were both stubborn, and seemed to find ourselves falling into arguments about the smallest things. Books, hunting, clothing, and the small issue he could read minds. I had been a little angered by that piece of information that had been so thoughtfully revealed to me after a wild accusation on his part. Apparently I was shielding my mind from him. I didn't even know how, or what that would consist of. Yet whatever reason it was that he could not hear my inner most thinking's, I was delighted.

He told me not being able to hear my thoughts made him uncomfortable, I told him I was glad.

I curled up into the large arm chair, folding my legs to one side and gazing aimlessly through the window. It was cloudy again, but clammy and oppressively hot. The incessant buzzing of crickets became an annoyance. Although the fire was unneeded, it was mesmerizing and I did not have the heart to put it out. Instead waiting till it burn itself it ashes.

My fingers found their way to the length of twine hung around my neck, messily tied with a double knot at the nape. Threaded through the lavish engagement ring that had been on my person since my awakening. I treasured and despised it. On one hand it seemed my only link with my shaded past, while it was also a constant reminder of something I could not remember. Had it belonged to a relative, or perhaps even myself. Of course that would mean I would have been linked to another. Someone I had no memory of, someone who had slipped through the cracks in my memory. That was a painful realization. It also supported the hypothesis that having no past was best; there was nothing to linger over nothing for me to grieve.

Yet I was lost.

This persona I had created since my rebirth, was it anything like the original me?

"It's very pretty."

I turned to face Carlisle as he gestured to the ring in my hand.

"It's not to my taste, I little too….shiny." I mused, examining the arrangement of precious rocks. It was large, it was ostentatious.

"Do you have any idea who it could have belonged to?" He asked, moving from his desk and to the armchair adjacent to mine. "May I?" I nodded and passed the offending item to him.

"Not a clue. It was on my person when I awoke, although I have no idea whether it belonged to me or perhaps was an heirloom." I replied, watching as he held the ring upwards and gazed at it with a critical eye.

"While I am no expert in jewelry, I have to say the design it quite modern. Do you think maybe….." Carlisle's gazed turned to me as he trailed off, the sentence left hanging.

"It was mine. Which would mean I was engaged, to someone I have no recollection of." I finished, taking back the necklace and hanging it back around my neck.

"You were engaged?" Another voice asked. Edward had arrived back from his hunt.

I rolled my eyes; it really was hard to keep anything to one's self. That was the down side to living in a house, nothing was private. "I'm afraid the answer to that question had been lost to the depths of my mind."

"It must be difficult." Edward replied softly. I was shocked, expecting the usual snarky comment or sarcastic quip.

"Quite the contrary. Not having a past means there is nothing for me to dwell over." I replied, lying back into the comfort of the large armchair; to which I had decided to claim as my own. A signal that it was indeed the end of the conversation. Carlisle seemed to except the end of the discussion and moved to ready himself for his hospital shift. Yet as I had expected Edward did not.

"Are you not curious in the slightest to what happened to you?" He asked, hovering next to the fire mantle. I shrugged in response and replied with an indifferent no.

"What about your family?"

"If they were so important why have I forgotten them? Even if I did remember would that not be another reason to grieve over my lost mortality?" I retaliated, watching the ideas and notions wash across his face in the briefest of moments. Before he had a chance to respond, Carlisle descended from the stairs his doctors bag in hand and announced his departure for work. We bid him farewell and wished him luck with his shift.

No sooner had Carlisle run from hearing range, Edward's interrogation continued.

"You're lying." He stated.

"Excuse me?!" I hissed, standing abruptly from my chair to face him.

"You're lying." He repeated, crossing his arms and looking me dead in the eyes.

"You know nothing, this is my business." I replied, turning on my heel and heading towards my own room. Far from Edward's wild and outlandish accusations and penetrating gaze. Perhaps it was his lack of ability; when it came to my own apparent guarded mind that put him on the offence. Maybe because he was unable to hear my thoughts or see my preplanned actions that made him so uncomfortable. Either way his behavior made my metaphorical blood boil.

"Then why do you keep gazing at it?" He asked, moving towards the bottom of the stairs. I glared at him from my stance on the landing balcony, yet he made no motion of backing down from his argument.

"Gazing at what?"

"That ring around your neck. You keep gazing at it when you think no one's watching. I know you're curious, you want to know." Edward stated, his topaz eyes locking with mine. Even though my mind was protected it seemed he could see right into my soul, like he was reading me like a book. I hated it.

"Why? Why are you trying so hard to disregard my morals? Have I not sated clearly my feelings over the matter?" I declared, gripping onto the wooden banister with too much force. It began to splinter underhand, my fingers making their perfect imprint into the grain. His eyes softened and then his gaze turned away. There lingered a moment of silence, as I waited with baited breath for him to retaliate. He seemed to have an internal debate, obviously deciding whether he wanted to indulge me on his own thoughts. He sighed.

"You know when I awoke from my change, I despised Carlisle. The way I died was slow and I knew the end was coming for me. With both my parents gone, I had fully accepted my own fate and embraced it. Yet here was this man who had stolen that away from me, warped the end of my mortality with immortality and this half life. I truly despised him in the beginning. Though through my ability I was able to understand his reasons, his intent was not malicious. He had changed me because my mother; in her delirious state; had declare he must. Carlisle has always wanted to share his alternative ways with others, but most simply think him mad."

I exhaled, gazing down from my perch at the truth that Edward had revealed to me. So openly sharing his feelings had put me on edge. I wondered where this particular conversation was headed.

"Do you know we are officially a coven, now there are three of us?" He stated chuckling, while pushing his hands into his pockets. "That's why when he found you he was ecstatic; you gave him hope that there may be other out there. Carlisle has always wanted to have a happy family, even as a vampire that desire has only strengthened. As soon as you agreed to join us, you were a member of this slightly disjoined family. There should not be secrets between any of us, especially when the vampire world is full of enough deceit as it is. I don't want to disregard your feelings…..only the false ones." He finished his gaze finally return to meet my own.

"Do you honestly want to know?" I asked, shaking my head in disbelieve why anyone would go to such lengths to make me admit my own feelings. I doubted there had ever been a time in my vampire life when someone had truly cared about my feelings; it was only since joining Carlisle and Edward that I had come to realize what consideration really meant. As much as I tried to convince myself that my stay with them would be brief and I would not become attached to the two males. My resolution was beginning to fade. Even if Edward did tend to peeve me off, I had to admit my life was never a bore.

"I truly want to know." He declared honestly.

"I'm lost. With no past what kind of future do I have?" I admitted, feeling a surge of self pity at how pathetic I sounded. Yet he nodded in understanding.

"A good one." Edward asserted.

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><p><em>I really dislike character introductions and reliving their life story, I just want to get to the good old EdwardXBella! I also didn't want the whole love at first sight, a little <em>__cliché? Sassy stubborn Bella is fun to write...give the girl a backbone! But fear not readers, there is some action on the way and lots of love.__

_Ciao!_

_Review is only a click away._


	7. Chapter Six: Blood Testing

_Yay it's finally up! In the middle of my A-level exams so excuse me that my updates are a little slow. I have also uploaded the story banner on my profile. Thanks to all who have taken the time to read and place the story on alerts, __grazie!_

_The track that really gave me inspiration for this chapter, was that of 'Button up your Overcoat' by Ruth Etting. Published in 1928, it maybe a little early for the plot but I love it. It also featured in the sound track for 'Water for Elephants.' _

_So without further ado._

_I am: The VII Duchess_

_Disclaimer: __I do not own the plot or characters to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Six: Blood Testing<span>

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"A good one." he had assured me with such conviction, that even I began to believe his words. Edward seemed so sure, even going as far to say they could help me research my past. Yet it was fruitless, millions of people died each year. Even more so in the last ten years due to the influenza epidemic and the war. I was just one person. The only thing that was quite certain is that I perhaps originated in Britain, that or I had developed an English accent. Which was highly unlikely. Then somehow after seventeen or eighteen years of life, I had died in America. That was it. Nothing in between, I may or may not have been engaged. I could not recall my surname name, only my name was Isabella.

Or so Horace had told me.

Yet when he did it felt right, and I could see no reason why he would lie about something so trivial. It was my own fault for not pressing him for more information about myself. I became so lost in the repercussions of vampire warfare; I did not even try to recall my past life. Somehow became satisfied with the knowledge that I had died and been given a second chance. It was not until I came to live within the boundaries of society, did my thoughts begin to drift to that blank spot.

It seemed when building relationships amongst the vampire kind, giving away the story of your human life was a sign of trust. Something most vampires treasured. I knew of Carlisle and Edward's pasts, but they knew a lie I had constructed. My honesty about the South was non-existent. If they truly realized what kind of person occupied the spare room, they would be horrified.

So I told him, it was pointless.

He replied with a shake of the head and a chuckle, stating "Nothing was impossible." I briefly wondered how he had come to that conclusion, before giving up. A vampire lecturing another about the impossibility of life was…bizarre. Instead, I returned to my own room, grabbing a leather bound copy of _Dracula _to laugh at the fact the vampire needed legal advice.

From downstairs, the crackling of the phonograph gave way to the upbeat sound of the Original Dixieland Jazz Band. Edward was playing my record. He did not care for the happy and cheery sound of Jazz music, instead preferring the more refined classical lark. Snapping the book shut and throwing it haphazardly upon the bed, I proceed to storm down the stairs.

"Are you purposely trying to irritate me, because you're doing a jolly good job." I pouted, when he didn't even look up from his newspaper. The date on the paper stated it was Wednesday the 18th of August 1920; I had been living in this house for nine months. According to the headlines, the most important story of the day evolved around the opening of a new apparel shop in Ashland. Selling Coney fur coats for only fifty seven dollars and sixty cents and chamoissette gloves for two. It seemed the possibilities in Wisconsin were endless.

As meaningless as the new shop was to me, I wanted the option of a visit to be nonobligatory.

"I wonder when I can get close enough…." I offhandedly mumbled to myself, playing with the lacy hem on my sleeve. Edward looked up, placing the paper in his lap.

"Close enough for what?" He questioned, eyebrows taught in a confused frown.

"To the humans. I was wondering how long it would be before I could go out around them." Edward looked a little surprised at my thought process. Although I hadn't slipped since I had been here, it only remained that way as the house was so isolated. So far from civilization, not even a brave hiker would come here without a purpose.

"Have you tried before?" He asked, folding the newspaper in half and moving to the edge of the armchair. It seemed he too had been thinking the issue over.

I nodded. "Quite close, about a hundred yards. Although it was only one person and I was holding my breath."I stated, recalling the first real success I had over my natural instincts. "But that was some ten, eleven months ago; I hadn't been on this diet for long. Perhaps my control would be stronger now?"

"Carlisle told me he used to practice on blood samples." Edward smiled, running a hand through his untamable hair.

"Blood samples?!" He nodded in response to my disbelieving pitch.

"He attended medical lectures at Edinburgh University, and managed to get hold of the samples from the medical demonstrations. Exposed himself to the blood a little at a time, he said it made sitting through hour long lectures a lot easier." I smiled at the image of Carlisle stealing blood; he was so good natured he probably felt guilty afterwards.

"Do you think, maybe we could do the same?"

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><p>So it came to be a mere week later, Edward and I stood directly opposite Carlisle and a small glass tube of crimson liquid. I knew in a real life situation the vial of cold blood held no comparison to the warmth of it pumping around a human body. However anything was better than nothing.<p>

"Positive you want to do this?" Carlisle asked one last time, we both answered with a nod. Already holding our breath in preparation. The stopper was removed and from the tube the tiny amount dripped into the ceramic crucible. It was my turn first.

Gingerly I shallowly inhaled.

The scent of the cold blood hit me like another vampire, my body involuntary lurched forward. Edward reacted quickly his arm wrapping around my waist and stopping me from making any progress, I squeezed my eyes firmly shut. Balling my hands into fists and tensing my leg muscles I tried to gain control.

"Do you want me to take it away?" Carlisle asked, I could feel his concerned gaze watching me from across the room. I shook my head. Not wanting to let Carlisle down, after all he had been so hospitable in allowing me to stay here. I tried to push Edward's arm away from my waist but it did not move an inch.

"I can do it." I stated, silently pleading for him to trust me. He nodded and slowly moved it away, but continued to stand right at my side. I noticed even though Edward was holding his breath, his usually golden eyes had considerably darkened. Mine were undoubtedly pitch black. I glared at the stupid little crucible, cursing in annoyance at the blood._ How dare it be my weakness._

I took in a deeper breath this time, and before my body could even react I locked my leg muscles. Deciding instead of a pep talk of helpful mantra, I began to scream profanities in my head. Slowly I began to take small even breaths, becoming a rhythm until I'm sure it looked as if I was hyperventilating. The burning in the back of my throat began to grow, until I knew I was slowly losing the internal battle. I stopped breathing and threw myself out of the office.

Crashing headfirst into the corridor wall, and tripping on the hem of my dress as I tried in desperation to get far away from the blood. It may have only been a couple of minutes in the presence of the cold red liquid, yet it was a small victory. I could not help but smile as I tore through the forest in search of a meal. More than one or two animals would meet their demise at the end of my hunger, it took an angry black bear and two white tailed deer before I was completely satisfied. The angry bear also decided to leave me with a parting gift and slashed my blue dress to pieces right across the torso. I was too euphoric to care.

I strolled back to the house at a human pace, following in natural trails of the forest. Before the house was even in sight, the sound of running vampire got closer. A blur of Edward ran past, not stopping or even pausing to acknowledge me. His pitch black eyes and focused gaze a tell tale sign he was on a hunt. I hoped he had been successful.

The house came into view and instead of the scent of blood that I had left, it had been replaced with burning ethanol.

"I'm back." Although Carlisle had probably heard me coming, I felt it was nice to announce myself. Climbing the stairs; with more grace that I had previously descended, I made my way back into Carlisle's study.

"Welcome back Isabella. Productive hunt?" He chucked, inclining his head towards the large gashes in my dress.

"Yes, very productive, this was a parting gift from a particularly angry black bear." I grinned, falling into the soft upholstered armchairs opposite his large desk. The ceramic crucible was ablaze, all traces of blood removed with the pure alcohol.

"You did very well, having not always been on this alternate diet your control is admirable." He praised, placing a tile over the crucible to starve the fire of oxygen.

"How did Edward do?" I inquired.

"He did well. I was happily surprised that even at such a young age, he had very good control, I feel if we continue with this regularly, it shouldn't be long until we can venture out." He replied, placing the bits of equipment back into one of the draws of the large oak desk. The office was of ample size and to the East of the house, like most of the rooms there were large bay windows looking out across the forest. The walls were covered in floor to ceiling bookcases, each book ordered alphabetically according to author's name. It seemed matters of great importance or personal issues were discussed within these four walls.

"Do you think Ashland is ready for more inhumanly pale people?" I asked, moving to place my legs over the arm of the chair.

"I dare say we will have to think up some inventive story….perhaps I suddenly decided to adopt?"He chuckled, feigning a thoughtful face and tapping his chin.

I shook my head. "Adopting two unruly adolescences, I dare say you are very brave Carlisle. However, there is a flaw in the plan, I'm clearly British."He nodded in realization.

"So what do advise?"Gesturing me to continue with my thought process.

"I was thinking something a little more authentic, say, younger sister and adoption?"I affirmed.

"Well, that is quite brilliant, believable. One question though, what brought you both into my care?" Carlisle questioned. I thought for a moment, biting my lip unconsciously.

"If our parents are deceased it would be natural that I fell under your care, but Edward…..is an anomaly. Perhaps he's… your godson, that way the fact he is American and we are British would be more believable." I stated, quite proud of the story we had managed to concocted.

"Well, I shall spread the word at the hospital."

I took my leave, jumping up from the armchair and brushed the imaginary dirt from my dress. A seemingly pointless act seeing as the dress was destined to be scrapped and reused. Heading towards my room, I could not help but poke my head around the door frame.

"Sure thing, _brother_." I teased.

He shook his head and gave a laugh, "Why do I feel I'm going to regret this."

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><p><em>Finally! We can get past all the introductions and get to the good stuff. Oh excitement runs wild and uncontrollable. <em>

_Reference made to The__ Original Dixieland Jazz Band - Livery Stable Blues (1917). _

_Ciao!_


	8. Chapter Seven: Trip to Town

_Apologies to all those who are reading (mucho thanks to those who have put the story on alert!)for the delay, A-level exams are such a hassle!_

_Yay I got my first review, it may have not been the type that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy. Still constructive criticism is good! After thinking over the comment, and looking at my plans for the story decided to do a little editing._

_So without further ado._

_I am: The VII Duchess_

_Disclaimer: __I do not own the Twilight Saga or books characters._

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><p><span>Chapter Seven:Trip to Town<span>

2nd April, 1921

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"Edward, give me the book." I jumped towards his outstretched arm, which held the book I had been reading. He arched his torso, putting even more distance between myself and it, "Give it back!" I growled, pulling at his arm. He threw the book to the opposite hand, laughing as I stamped my foot and placed my hand on my hips.

"Give it back."

He grinned and shook his head, placing the book on the top shelf of the case. It was well out of my reach; that was unless I pulled up a chair or decided to scale the shelves.

"It's for your own good, reading the same book over and over is making you antisocial." Edward announced, tugging playfully at a strand of my hair. I frowned and lightly swatted his hand away, tucking the loose tendril behind my ear. I had artfully pinned my hair back, copying a design I had seen in a magazine allowing some bits to remain free. Usually I left my hair down or braided it for hunting, but today was a little different. Image was everything, it was the first time Edward and I would venture into the center of town.

We knew our pale skin, inhuman looks would draw certain attention and comments. In order to even stand chance of living alongside the humans, it would abide us well to act the part. As an eighteen year old, it was only natural I would be interested in fashion and looking well endowed. The outfit I had chosen was light green Greek style dress, reaching mid-calf and made of artificial silk. While a thick outer coat made of tricotine with a mink fur collar, needed for the cold spell of weather that seemed to be lingering. All topped off with a matching green cloche hat.

Both Edward and I had hunted the day before; indulging so much in preparation for the confrontation, our eyes had never been so vibrant. The population of white tailed deer had probably depleted slightly after our hungry rampage.

Carlisle descended the stairs, clipping his pocket watch chain through the button whole of his waist coat. Edward and I both unconsciously stood straight side by side at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Carlisle's approval. His golden eyes swept over us before smiling.

"If I didn't know any better I would dare say you look like a pair of adolescents." He chuckled.

The journey into the centre of Ashland took little over an hour, although that was partly due to the fact we were only traveling a measly thirty miles an hour along dirt tracks in the Model T. The novelty of having an automobile had worn off after realizing its well advertised top speed of forty to forty five miles per hour only applied when driving down asphalt roads. Living within the edge of the national park meant we did not possess that luxury. The only positive things about it were the canvas roof that kept the precipitation and wind out, that and it made a good human guise.

The centre of Ashland was a mixture of red brick and cream stone buildings, most with simple timber roofs and cladding. The shop windows artfully decorated with the new seasons fashions. Bright fabrics, shiny trinkets in the jewelers, a chemist, green grocers. Down every side streets myriads of tiny shops selling everything a human could desire. It was fascinating watching them interact with each other, all wrapped up warm in coats and hats.

The cold weather seemed to make their scents easier to handle, although I still sat in-between taking tiny breaths and not breathing at all. Even with the slight burn in the back of my throat, the sheer amount of blood I had consumed seemed to have subdued the beast. I felt in control of myself. We exited the Ford; currently parked in a long line of identical ones, and stood gazing at the crowds of people. I swallowed reflectively the accumulating venom.

"Are you ready?" Carlisle asked, gazing at us with concern only he was capable of. We both nodded.

I pulled the fur collar of my coat closer to my neck feigning my displeasure of the cold weather. Before slipping my arm through Edward's, effectively locking us together. If ether one of us should lose control, the other could quickly put them in their place.

Strolling in a hopefully casual manner, we proceeded down the sidewalks careful to avoid knocking into any humans. I could not help to but to admire the atmosphere and the people, even with the bitterly cold weather it did not deter them from their activities. Each seemed to have a smile upon their faces as they bought and bartered for items. Yet just like Carlisle had stated their attention soon turned to us, the new members of the Cullen clan. Anyone who did not know of our heart wrenching parentless condition were soon informed by the town's gossips. From the wincing and shuddering Edward began to sport, their thoughts turned less than innocent.

I gave his arm a squeeze for support.

From the swinging street sign above the shop on the corner, I spied a book store. Cleverly named _'The Book Store'. _It looked quiet and a seemingly good place to avoid people; as much as I loved to watch Edward suffer I would admit to feeling sorry for my best friend.

"Want to hide in the book shop?" I asked, gesturing with my head towards the building.

"Please." Edward replied stiffly, picking up his pace and began to drag me by the arm. Carlisle followed diligently looking rather amused by our antics, that or his age had made him senile. As Edward stormed the book shop with Carlisle and I in tow, the little bell jingled to announce our presence. A small old man greeted us from behind his counter, seemingly unbothered by our appearance.

"Any better?" I whispered, gently unthreading my arm from Edward's. Proceeding to pretend to gaze at books in the history section. We moved from the line of sight of the old man, lingering in a small clearing between shelves littered with a couple of worn leather chairs. Edward took a seat leaning back and running his hands through his hair.

"Sorry. I was caught off guard." He remorsed.

"There no need to apologize Edward. You may have practiced being around human blood, but your gift is entirely different. The only way to harness it is to spend time amongst large groups." Carlisle rationalized, aimlessly flicking through a book on maritime disasters. I nodded in agreement with his well articulated reasoning and perched on the arm of Edward's chair, watching the human pass by the windows. Carlisle moved along the isles gravitating towards the medical textbooks as per usual.

"Do you think they realize?"

"Realize what?" I resorted turning to Edward with a quizzical look; surely he remembered it was him than had the gift not me. He too was watching the humans, all the while playing with a loose strand of my hair that had fallen from its pin.

"Realize the possible danger they are in. All their minds see is our perfect features, but do you think deep down they know?" He asked, spinning the strand around his finger.

"Perhaps…..before when I didn't follow this life style….they sometimes-" I sighed wondering where this conversation was leading. Edward had turned his gaze to me, though I never met his.

"They sometimes…" He prompted gently.

"The ones that were coherent enough were sometimes were wary. Before they had chance to look me in the eye, the hairs on their bodies would stand on end. Some even shuddered. Humans like to think they are top of the food chain…..but to some extent I think they know." There lingered a moment of comfortable silence.

"Coherent?"

"Drunks."

"Like an extreme prohibition enforcer."

"Something like that." I smiled; we sat in silence watching the humans. "Should we go back out?"

He nodded in agreement, as we both stood and sought out Carlisle. Yet no sooner had we left the shop and proceeded to the next tiny store. Did a shrill shout come from the opposite sidewalk; the yell was directed at _Dr Cullen._ All three of us proceeded to turn to the source of the voice, only to find a hand manically waving in a sea of people. The woman barged her way through the crowds, she looked to be late fifties, plump and dressed in the most outrageous outfit. It was not the horrid olive coloured coat she sported, but the hat that rested on a slight angle that made me question her sanity. She bounded up to us, clearly with a purpose.

"Oh, Dr Cullen I'm so glad I ran into you." She eyed Edward and I. "These must be your new family members."

"Yes, hello Mrs. Finley. What a coincidence meeting you here. This is my sister Isabella." Carlisle smiled tightly at the over bearing woman.

"A pleasure to meet you." I smiled, trying to keep my eyes on her face and not her hat. The scent of her blood was well concealed with copious amounts of heavy musky perfume, had she bathed in it?

"My godson Edward."

He gave a polite nod in response to his introduction, but the way his brows were slightly furrowed a clear indication he was analyzing her thoughts.

"My, my aren't you a sight for sore eyes Isabella."She drawled, surveying me from top to bottom. I glanced at Edward, he was frowning clearly she her thoughts displeased him. We caught eyes and I raised my brow in question, he shook his head and muttered a _later._

"Yes very pretty indeed." She muttered. I leant closer to Edward trying to hide from the crazy human, while Carlisle looked mildly uncomfortable. He gave a small cough, bringing the mad woman's attention to him.

"Is there anything I can help you with Mrs Finley?"

"Oh I've only come to welcome young Isabella and Edward to Ashland." The old women smiled coyly, she bobbed her head in goodbye giving us a perfect view of the taxidermy duck on her hat. Before joining with another group of ladies on the opposite side walk, they all glanced over before whispering amongst themselves.

"How do you know her?" I asked, giving Carlisle a pitying look for knowing such a person.

"A patient of mine, not to mention a notorious gossip." He replied, motioning for us to return to the car. Edward and I nodded in agreement, not wanted to push the success we obtained with our outing. I could feel the flame in my throat begin to rear up just at the thought, quickly linking my arm through Edward's for support. He pulled us a little closer.

I left Ashland feeling much more hopeful than I had on the way to, managing to interact somewhat successfully with the humans. Even if they were a little strange but perhaps I had been that odd once upon a time. It was not until the evening; after we had returned home and hunted, did I finally get to ask Edward about the crazy woman. He was sat in his claimed arm chair, while I sat on the floor next to the fire and leant against his legs.

"Motive or crazy?" I questioned, sewing a button on to Carlisle's shirt.

"Both."

"Do elaborate, why was she eying me?" From my angle on the floor I could not identify his facial expression, but felt his body tense a little.

"She thought you were a good match for her son."

I lurched forward breaking the needle against my thumb and let out a laugh. "S-she thought I would be a good match…a vampire and a h-human. That's the most absurd thing I have ever heard! Having a relationship with a human."

"I'd never let you."

"Good, stop me if I even think of such an idea."

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><p><em>I have edited chapter two, as I wanted to <em>


	9. Chapter Eight: Muddy Brawl

_Yay thank you guys for the great reviews! It made me so happy. To those who have also put the story on alert, __Grazie mille! I am trying my very best to update weekly, now my exams have finished It should make it a little easier. Unfortunatly, my obsession with Wimbledon is taking over._

_So without further ado._

_I am: The VII Duchess_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga or books characters._

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><p><span>Chapter Eight: A Muddy Brawl<span>

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I would always like to say I tried hard not to judge a book by its cover, the oldest book could hold a world of adventure and the most beautiful of flowers your poisonous demise. However, the man standing in front of me was not only idiotic looking, but his personally rivaled the cover. I tried; I really did try to be polite and courteous at his lack of understanding. Alas, my anger was getting the better of me. All I wanted was to purchase the large grand piano in the corner; I really didn't care about the cello or the harp. Just the piano. That is all I ask.

Edwards's birthday was next week. After collaborating with Carlisle we both agreed a piano was the perfect present. So while they both hunted, I went to purchase the item.

"Miss Cullen, the harp is an antique practically priceless. But I'll give you a good price." He winked while pushing the half moon spectacles up the bridge of his large roman nose.

"Mr Sprint. Just the grand piano." I glared, but managed controlled the urge to growl at him and that hideous moustache. He dithered apparently scared by my sudden act of hostility, stumbling over his footing in the process.

"O-Of c-course." The human instinct had kicked in, that small part of the unconscious mind telling them to run from the preditor. It would always remain a little degrading if not a tad humorous watching humans tripping over themselves.

"I would like it delivered to this address." I handed over a small piece of parchment, containing direction to the house. We agreed on a price along with the date and time of delivery.

"Good day Miss Cullen." The little bell chimed on the way out and I made a mental note to let Carlisle handle such excursions in the future. I let out my held breath and swallowed the accumulating venom.

As per usual the sun was hidden behind thick, dense grey clouds; it had not made an appearance in over four days, I was getting worried about its well being. Carlisle had managed to pull up the canvas roof on the car, so even if it did decide to rain my journey home would be relatively dry. I headed down the dusty streets towards the car. Managing to dodge one of Carlisle patients, who had taken it upon herself to mother Edward and I at every opportunity she got. Handing us sugar cookies and tousling our hair, it was funny the first time.

It was a good hour before I reached the house, yet again it was raining. I cursed at the size of the puddles surrounding the car, knowing my new shoes would be ruined. Bloody rain. Grabbing the umbrella from the back seat, I turned to prepare myself for the down pour.

"Does the lady require a hand?" I squeaked in fright, as Edward lend against the window arch grinning.

"Not funny! Why are you doing?" I frowned at his idiocy as water drip from his messy hair and soaking his clothing.

"You have been on about your new shoes all week, can't let them get wet now can we?" Then he used that stupid crooked grin, the one that seemed to make my own quiver. I bit my lip to stop it.

"Can you get my hunting boots from the hall, please?" I asked, grabbing my purse.

"Now why would I do that?" I must have look baffled by that because he smirked and opened the car door.

"What in the name of- ahhh put me down!" I screeched as he snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me from the car. Carrying me bridal style towards the house.

"Put me down!"

"If you're sure." He stopped in the pouring rain and I knew what he intended to do. Damn that crooked smile.

"NO, keep going." I grabbed onto his neck tightly, if I was going down he was coming too. Then there was laughing...Carlisle standing idly from the porch.

"Oh Carlisle if you have nothing to do, my bags are in the car." I glared at him as he kept laughing, I didn't understand. Damn their silent conversations.

"Oh Bella did I forget your bags? I am sorry." Edward asked smiling mockingly; he turned around and carried me back towards the car. My hair was soaking and plastered to my face, and my dress soaking wet when we finally got to the porch. I grumbled and rung out my hair creating a small puddle on the wood. Edward decided to shake like a dog, effectively getting me wet again.

"Let me go get some towels." Carlisle smiled; and walked at human pace just to annoy me. Water dripped from my hairline streaming down my face like unshed tears. Edward looked no better his hair stuck to his scalp; it was the first time I had seen it tamed.

The water had turned the garden into a mud pool; great clumps of soft clay lay undisturbed. That was until I had a great idea, running to the edge of the flower boarders I scooped up a handful of mud. Turned around and hurled it straight towards Edward. He caught it, causing it to explode in his hands and splatter everywhere.

He looked completely shocked, as mud covered him from head to toe. The usual bronze hair was dark brown, his face stained with splodges. I giggled happy, I had my revenge upon him. I turned my back and removed my shoes, ready to go inside.

"Bella."

"What's the matter Edward, don't you like-"I turned around at the sound of my name, ready to taunt him. When a mass of mud hit me straight in the torso, I didn't know how to react so I just stood there in shock as Edward doubled over in laughter. My body moved on its own, scooping up a large handful of clay I proceeded to throw aiming right at him. That was the start of war.

We stood facing each other, standing off. Until I moved first running straight at him, massaging the mud right into his hair. In turn getting a full face of sludge, it dripped from my hair and clothes as the rain diluting it. My next hand full went straight down Edwards's back; he yelped and untucked his shirt trying to get it out.

"Y-your...face." I howled with laughter, watching him squirm about. I didn't care how childish I was being, it had been a long time since I had such fun.

"Surrender Bella or the shoes get it." There in Edward's hand were by new shoes, cream white lace boots. In the other hand a clump of sticky mud.

"You wouldn't." I gasped, he was playing a dangerous game bring my shoes into the equation.

"Wouldn't I?" He moved the muddy hand closer to my shoes, each dirty drip endangering their crisp whiteness. Then in slow motion I watched a speck hit the lace. That was it. I lunged hitting Edward with an almighty bang, we both went flying into the flower beds. Creating a massive crater, alas there was no hope for my shoes and they met the most untimely end.

The fight was still not over; we continued to wrestle in the muddy clay. Trying to get the other to admit defeat. I managed to pull Edwards arms behind him, but the mud caused me to lose my grip on him. In turn he grabbed my wrists pinning them above my head and pining the rest of my body to the ground. I growled and tried to break free, but my small stature was no match for him.

I managed to calm down from the excitement of the fight, and realized what a compromising position we were in.

"Do you surrender?" He asked. I'm sure if blood had still been pumping around my body, it would be pooling in the apples of my cheeks. I nodded, glaring to hide my embarrassment.

"I think we made a bit of a mess." He said helping me to stand. I turned away not wanted to look at him. The garden was a complete and utter mess, patches of the lawn where missing and the empty flower beds were deceased.

"I must say that was highly entertaining." I turned around slowly, coming face to face with Carlisle who looking highly amused by our antics. He held two large fluffy white towels in either hand; I was reluctant to take mine not wanting to get it dirty, but took it in-between two fingers and headed to the washroom.

The water was scolding hot, but did not affect my icy sky. I sank into the warmth, watching as clouds of steam rose, condensing on the white tiles and trickled down.

I sank down further, until my whole body was under. Mud streaked through the water, turning it a cloudy brown. I proceeded to wash my hair in clean water, removing all traces of the mud from my person. Then finally I could reap the benefits of the fluffy white towel, the lavender scent from the moth balls invading my heightened senses and home felt safe. My clothes were soiled and distastefully heaped in the corner of the room, it would take a great deal of washing to remove the dirt.

For now I dressed in my house garments, placing the dirty clothes in laundry sink. Edward's were also in there, but he could wash his own bloody clothes. I glared at his clothes. Angry that he had put me in such a position, making me embarrassed. He had no right to make me feel like that. Always so insolent with his annoying smirks and quick come backs. Arrogant bastard who made me embarrassed. I would have the last laugh because I would never think of him as anything more than a friend.

I would never let myself have such feelings for someone, when they clearly would not be reciprocate. It would be setting one's self up for certain failure. I did not like to lose. No one could ever love someone like me, flawed and monstrous. I was fine with that, come to accept love was not possible for someone like me.

Yet, I wished I was a better person.

Wondered had I been in love as a human, been kind or thoughtful. In this life I was making it up as I went along, it was like learning to live all over again. Had my personally been molded by my vampire beginning or had it survived my awakening. Having no past make everything to uncertain. Now these strange emotions I may or may not be completely aware of, were making everything so much more complicated.

Every time I closed my eyes and thought back to the first memory I could recall, all that came to mind was silence and darkness. A seemingly never ending void.

I swallowed the thickness in my throat.

Braided my hair, rolled up the selves of my dress and proceeded to wash the clothes in the sink.

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><p><em>Oh a little angst! But finally she's beginning to realize (if not overjoyed)her feelings! <em>

_"Listen to them. Children of the night. What music they make."- Count Dracula_


	10. Chapter Nine: A Sudden Appearance

_A big thanks to chosmer andGracy Luts your reviews have made me so happy! So extra long chapter for you guys and all those who have the story on alert! Its finally beginning to heat up with a splash of kick ass Bella._

_So without further ado._

_I am: The VII Duchess_

_Disclaimer: __I do not own the plot or characters to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Nine: A Sudden Appearance<span>

November 19th, 1921

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It had been a truly sordid day; the sky had turned a heavy ashen colour, and slowly darken as time wore on. The sound of the birds had been muted by a blusteringly bitter gale that made the trees creak and moan. Since early October lashings of snow had set in, the ground was now buried in over a foot of sleet. The cold weather had sent the bears into hibernation, for the likes of us vampires prey was limited. Preparations for Thanksgiving celebrations were well underway within the towns; numerous invitations had been politely turned down on our behalf. Instead copious donations made to local organizations to keep us within societies good graces. None of us quite fancied eating the traditional holiday meal within the home of a human, pretences only went so far.

Although the winter diet was tedious; consisting primarily of white tailed deer, the cold weather and cloudy skies meant trips into town were more frequent. Carlisle had more choice over which hospital shifts he took, dispelling any rumor he may be bootlegging on the side. Although, we got a good laugh out of it. The model T had met a seasonal demise, the engine had frozen solid and refused to thaw or start.

Edward's obsession with the piano; while lovely at first had become an annoyance. Leaving me with the regret I did not purchase the antique harp. Of course the surprise birthday present was not a surprise seeing as Edward had already read Carlisle's mind, he didn't even pretend to be surprised. Instead cockily asking me what make I had purchased before it came. I smashed his Shostakovich record. He dropped my copy of The Magic of Oz into the fire.

Carlisle said we were acting like a bunch of juveniles.

I replied we physically were.

Edward laughed, Carlisle not so much.

He had proceeded to run to work, leaving us juveniles at home. While piano boy started on his sixth rendition of Shostakovich, in apparent mourning of his record and to spite me. I decided to hunt and leave him to his sorrows. Unfortunately, piano boy did not hear my silent pleas for silence; or chose to ignore them, appeared from the newly converted music room and stated.

"I'm coming to."

I resisted the urge to glare and continued to pout while lacing up my boots and tying my hair.

We locked up the house, a seemingly pointless action seeing as the house was almost completely isolated due to the snow.

"East?" He asked.

I gazed around at the crisp virgin white forest, trying to determine the direction of wind. The flow was south easterly, meaning we needed to travel against the direction to avoid detection.

"No North Westerly, it should make it easier seeing as the wind is strong." I replied, running on ahead and avoiding a conversation with Edward. He followed, moving to my right, but keeping slightly behind. The snow soaked through the leather of my shoes; although I could not feel the icy temperature it made every step sodden. Another pair of shoes ruined, I would go barefoot next time.

"Are you angry with me?" He questioned.

"Yes." I responded, he had noticed my avoidance of him over the past weeks. It was easier to place a distance between us, than confront any feelings I was not ready to accept. I had tried to act normal, keeping up the conventional bickering banter that came with our relationship. Yet he made me feel things I wasn't sure I liked. Picking arguments and pretending to be angry was so much simpler.

"Can you stop being angry with me?" He stated, artfully dodging a tree in his path.

"Probably."

I hoped that would be the end of the conversation, yet no sooner had I began to change course towards a known hunting ground did it happen. It was skillful on his part; I didn't even hear his move. Standing directly in front of me looking rather livid, was piano boy. In order to avoid a collision my legs muscles locked together, the lack of friction due to the snow caused me to overbalance and skid onto my back.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I yelled, bolting upright and glaring right back.

"Why the hell are you avoiding me."

"You're delusional."

"Don't walk away from me."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Damn it, Isabella. I know you better than anyone; you're not acting like yourself."

"Then clearly you know nothing." I whispered, running past him a bumping my shoulder into his. The crack that accompanied the action muffled by our clothing, but the sentiment was there. I regretted it almost as soon as it had occurred, but I was too stubborn and set in my ways to apologize. He was right though, he knew me better than anyone.

The deer I consumed did not relieve the swirling guilt that encompassed me. I dragged my feet, creating a never ending trail through the snow.

But no sooner had I turned towards home, then a new scent caught my attention. And it was not prey.

I stood up taller, lifting my nose to the air and took a deep breath. Cringing at the unmistakable smell of another vampire. Their scent reeked of human blood and tobacco; unconsciously my whole body reacted poising itself. The vampire ran just north of my position, before stopping suddenly; most likely detecting my own scent. My assumption was correct when its direction changed and it began to head straight towards me.

It was male.

Standing at an approximate five and a half feet, wearing the remainders of Sunday bests, the once crisp cream shirt torn and splattered with the remnants of a human.

From the boyish looking face, came glowing burgundy eyes. I estimated his age to be no older than fifteen, a borderline immortal child. He stopped merely twenty yards from me, simply watching.

"Good afternoon." I began, keeping my hands at my sides and making no movement. One sudden motion could provoke him; I wondered how long he had been a vampire.

"Who are you?" He half asked, half demanded. As much as I told myself he was a killer, I could not help but feel some sort of sorrowful compassion towards him. The loss of life in someone so young was sure to leave behind a grieving family.

"My name is Isabella, and you?" I began.

He tilted his head to one side, analyzing the entirety of my body. I was glad for the long cuffs and high collar, hiding the silvery scars. His crimson eyes stopped at my golden ones.

"Your eyes."

"My coven and I have an alternative diet, animal blood. Golden eyes are merely a side effect."I hoped the subtly dropped hint of a coven would dispel any ideas he may have had on attacking. He raised one brow slightly; most likely in probable disbelief, before returned to an impassive gaze.

"May I inquire to whom am I addressing, it is only common courtesy." I asked, giving the child a small smile careful not to show any of my teeth. As much as I wanted to be civilized, I did not want this vampire to think he had any hold over me.

"Lawrence" He replied stiffly, recoiling lightly at my reprimand his lack of manners.

"Well, Lawrence, I must ask you to refrain from hunting around this area. The territory is claimed by my coven, deaths within the community would make our lives more difficult. I had watched Carlisle give the explanations to our diet many a time, before kindly asking nomads to hunt elsewhere. Almost everyone had complied, whether it had been Carlisle's experience and nature, or the fact there had two vampires standing directly behind him; it had been a success. Lawrence however, was not so ready to accept my demands. His beady red eyes turned to slits, and his shoulders hunched forward. Clearly he did not like being told what to do.

"Why I should listen to you?" He all but spat out, his lips curling back and revealing his sharp little teeth.

"You should listen, if you expose yourself to the humans or create a problem the Volturi will not hesitate to eradicate you. This is claimed territory; you should do well to remember the rules. Has your sire taught you nothing?" I had thought the threat of the Volturi would have knocked some sense into him, but apparently their reputation had not reached his ears. As soon as he went into a defensive crouch and bared his teeth, I internally sighed. It seemed every conversation I had today ended in some kind of fight.

"Please, I'm just asking you to hunt further afield. There is no reason for us to fight." I pleaded, placing my hands out in front as a sign of peace. Unfortunately, he did not respond to my pleas and attacked.

I fell into my own crouch and watched as he headed straight towards me, his intention was to grapple. From this I judged he had a little fighting experience, but probably relied on his small stature to slip past the enemy. Yet, I was physically smaller than him, and ducked under his arms. Passing behind him and delivering a hard kick to his lower back. He rolled forward onto his hands and knees, before sweeping his legs under mine.

I jumped too late and ended up on my back in the snow, Lawrence pounced on top of me aiming to rip my throat out. My hands pushed against his chest, trying to put some distance between his mouth and my neck. The little bastard was pissing me off. I wrapped my legs around his waist, twisting with enough force to place him and his snarling mouth underneath me.

"I'm feeling pretty nice today sweetlin', now how about I let you go and you run along?" I questioned, feeling quite proud I had tried to be a little more humane that ripping the small boy to bite size bits. He begrudgingly nodded, and I slowly got off him.

Humane my ass. No sooner had my random act of kindness removed its self from him, did he sink his teeth into my wrist. I shrieked in surprise and pain, looking at the gaping hole in my arm. His mouth dripped with the blood from my last meal and the chunk of my wrist gripped between his teeth.

"Isabella?!" I turned my head and watched as Edward stormed into the clearing. His concerned gaze lingered on my face before moving to my arm, then the vampire with a bit of my arm in his mouth. I watched as he made the connection and his face turned into something feral. Piano boy was angry.

It was with a strange satisfaction that I watched as Edward tore that tiny vampire to bits. Lawrence was just unfortunate that I was sadistic enough as to carry a box of matches in my brassiere, I tossed them to Edward. Not before fishing the chunk of arm from Lawrence's decapitated head. My arm was back in business.

"I'm sorry." I remorsed, standing next to Edward and watching the fire flicker and burn. He held my hand, turning it over and traced the matching half moon scars that now added to my extensive collection. His fingers moved up my arms, touching the silvery lines.

"I'm sorry." He replied. "I'm sorry I made you angry, I'm sorry I didn't arrive in time to stop him hurting you. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from the reason behind the scars. You were right I don't know everything about you, but I want to know everything."

"So silly." I mumbled.

"Blaming yourself for something out of your control. I wasn't a very nice person when I first changed, my whole world revolved around fighting. Some call them the newborn wars others the southern wars, have you heard of them?" I asked.

"Carlisle speculated as much, but he wasn't sure. Why didn't you tell us?" Edward questioned, looking a little hurt I had kept the secret.

"It's not something one wishes to gloat about or relive. As time when on it was easier to pretend it never happened. "

"Tell me, I want to know everything." His eyes seemed to bore into mine, I found it hard to look away or say no.

"Can we do this away from the burning vampire?" We began the journey back to the house, instead of the usual run decided to walk back at human walking pace.

"Where to begin." I mused.

"At the start." He prompted; I rolled my eyes punching him playfully on the arm.

"I was told stories my by sire Horace, about the first wars. Whether they were true died with Horace. He said the first vampire to create an army was named Benito; he wanted to conquer Mexico City, I have no idea as to why. This first army set the foundations for the wars. But Benito's unruly newborns spiked the interest of the Volturi; they feared exposure and wiped out most of the armies. Horace claimed to be a survivor of the massacre; he along with a few other head strong and blood thirsty vampires took up Benito's idea and created their own. Although much smaller and controlled as to remain out of the Volturi detection. I fought alongside Horace and thirteen others for around six or seven years, after a while began to wonder if there was anything out there."

"How did you escape?"

"Horace was a tracker, the best damn tracker I had ever come across. He was ruthless and cunning; if anyone tried to leave he would hunt them down. It was not a good idea to forge relationships with other vampires, emotion made you vulnerable. Losing a vampire here and there was completely common, no relationship, no grievances. I had an acquaintance name Percival, he was not my friend but he was trustworthy enough. Lived and loved to fight. One day I simply snapped and killed my sire, the newborns were away hunting so there were no witnesses. Well except one, but he was destroyed by Percy. Knowing there was nothing in my way I bolted, left the army in the capable hands of my acquaintance and never looked back."

"Did your sire give any reasons to why he created you?"

"No, he told me my name was Isabella and me surviving was ironic. At the time I was too crazed with blood lust and defending my meal to care about my human life. By the time I cared enough he was dead. Not quite a bedtime story."

"Will you tell Carlisle?"

"Yes, although seeing as he already speculated as much I'm sure he already knows." We both smiled, before sizing each other up and racing back to the house. The sun was

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><p>beginning to set, and the light fading fast. By the time we reached the secluded cottage, the snow fall was heavy and the gale had picked up. After lighting the fire and the gas lamps, we both sat in the parlor playing a competitive game of Gin Rummy.<p>

"I feel sorry of Carlisle having to run back in this weather, he's going to be completely soaked." I contemplated, drawing a card face down from the pile and slotting it into my hand.

"It's unfortunate the T has died, its frozen solid. So much for revolutionary design." He replied, smirking when he won the round.

"That and the fact you have to reverse up hills." I quipped, demanded we played Authors, the only card game I could ever win. The clock chimed seven o'clock, causing both of us to look up from the heated game. Carlisle was late. I did not think anything of it at first; he may have been delayed by a patient at the hospital. Yet when the clock struck eight, both of us exchanged worried looks.

"He did not say anything about a night shift." I said, aimlessly shuffling and reshuffling the cards.

"Maybe he forgot." Edward offered. We both new Carlisle would never forget to indulge us with such information; it was a kind of unwritten family rule to let members know where you were going and when to expect you back. Carlisle was nearly two and a half hours late.

"I hope that vampire was alone."

"I didn't sense any oth-" Edward stopped mid sentence and turned his head to the drawn window. I listened past the popping of the fire embers; hearing the foot tread of a vampire heading towards us. It was accompanied by a heartbeat, an erratic heartbeat. I pulled open the front door with such force the handle was crushed beneath my hand. Closely followed by Edward we stood stoic on the porch, waiting for the sign that was sure to accompany our hearing.

"He's bitten someone." Edward announced.


	11. Chapter Ten: A Calamitous Situation

_Sorry for the slight wait, back off my holidays. Thanks once again to all those who reviewed and put the story on alert, it's lovely to know you're taking time out of your day to read this. I will freely admit this is not one of my favorite chapters; it's necessary, but feels like a bit of a connector to the next one. I promise a more interesting chapter next time._

_Disclaimer: __I do not own the Twilight Saga or books characters._

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><p><span>Chapter Ten: A Calamitous Situation<span>

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My head snapped to the side at this revelation. I wondered if Carlisle had slipped, yet the very notion seemed simply impossible. I didn't want to accept such a thing. If he had slipped, then what hope was there for the likes of me.

"Purposely." Edward confirmed, never looking away from the spot in the woods. I exhaled, immediately feeling guilty that I had jumped to such a conclusion and thought of myself. Even if he had slipped my attention should remain solely on the victim and consolidation.

My mental scolding was soon cut short as Carlisle came bolting through the trees. In his arms and looking worse for wear was a female. He looked so unrefined, and appeared so unsure of himself. Yet this woman was becoming one of us and we could not hesitate with such unyielding emotions.

"Take her up into one of the spare rooms." I stated, with a calm voice that concealed the panic and fear that roared inside. He nodded in response trying not to move too much and agitate the changing woman. She moaned in pain. I turned to Edward, who looked to be in shock, he had never seen a human change into a vampire. It would be a learning curve.

"Edward, come along, Carlisle will need all the help he can get." Gently I tugged on his shirt, bringing him out of his daze. He diligently followed me back into the house, wincing when the woman wailed in her burning state. The familiar sounds of the effects of vampire venom in the human blood stream made me nostalgic, for a brief moment I could almost smell the sands and hear the crickets. We took the stairs at a gingerly human pace, trying to put as much time between us and confronting the issue at hand. It was only seconds before we stood in the door of the spare room, it was only ever used for the storage of spare clothing and Carlisle's extensive book collection. Yet the mellow peach colored room did nothing to soothe the woman's pain.

I left Edward at the threshold and moved to stand next to Carlisle; he had pulled an upholstered chair next to the woman's bedside. His face was lost and I was so sure there was a raging internal battle going on inside his mind. It was alarming to witness such an emotion on someone usually so poised. I slowly placed my hand on his shoulder, hoping physical reassurance would aide him.

"What's done is done." I whispered. Yet I had exceeded my comfort, I lacked the ability to console people having had no prior experience. Witty banter I could do sadness and regret I could not.

My attention was now taken with the female; her probable natural beauty was disfigured with an array of cut and bruises marring her skin. The soft wavy brown hair matted with dried blood, from an untreated head wound. Once a pale blue dress was torn and ripped and she was missing a leather boot. Beneath her bruised purple lids, her eyes darted around, it was a sobering look at just how fragile humanity could be. I wondered what had happened to her.

"Edward bring me a jug of cold water and a cloth please." He nodded from the doorway.

From the mahogany armoire I selected a long cream cotton night dress and folded it gently over the bed frame. My gaze lingered on Carlisle who was hunched over in his chair, gripped tightly in his hands a small wooden crucifix. I could not help but wonder if God would listen to the prayer of a vampire, but of all the vampires in creation I was sure Carlisle's would be the one.

"Carlisle. You need to hunt."

He lifted his dark eyes to mine, as if only just realizing I was in the room. His clothes were wet from the snow and covered in splatters of dried blood, yet appearance was the least of his worries. Edward returned, placing the floral porcelain jug and cloth on the night stand, before standing awkwardly to one side. I gave him a nod of thanks.

"Yes, I suppose your right." Carlisle replied reluctantly, his gaze resting on the female. I tried to keep the question from flitting across my face; it looked to me as if Carlisle had some sort of connection to the woman. I was not one to pry, but I'd ask Edward.

"If you don't hunt now you will be nothing more than a hindrance when she awakens. While you are out I will clean her up best I can, we don't want dried blood to be the first thing she smells." I reasoned, gesturing to the cotton nightdress.

"Yes quite right….I'm sor-"He began.

"Hunt now, explain later."I pushed him and Edward out of the room.

"Her name is Esme." Carlisle said sorrowfully, lingering at the top of the staircase.

"I will take good care of Esme; we shall chat about spring fashion and the delights of the Russian ballet. Now go or I shall throw you out." I said sternly, giving my best no nonsense glare and placing my hands on my hips. It seemed to get the point across and Carlisle departed into the snow. Edward sighed running his hands through his hand and tried to escape.

"And where; pray tell, do you think you're going?"

"Nowhere?"He questioned.

"Exactly. Now I may pretend to not pry into other people's business, but this concerns all of us and you have the inside track. I'm going to take a wild guess and say he already knows her."

Edward nodded.

"And he has some kind of feelings towards her."

I got another nod.

"Alrighty, that's all I wanted to know." I turned back into the peach colored room and softly closed the door behind me. Esme had stopped moaning and wailing, I suspected the extent of her injuries had pulled her into unconsciousness. She was lucky for the moment. I poured the jug of water into a matching wash basin, perched on the side table. Rolling up my sleeves and submerged the cloth into the cold liquid. I proceed with the job at hand.

Several times I had to ask Edward to fetch clean water, another cloth and clean towels. Washing an unconscious human was not an easy task; I had to carefully move her in order to wash her hair. I was glad to find all her cuts had clotted and was extremely careful not to reopen any. Yet I was delighted to find her hair was not brown at all but a much lighter and softer color. Her skin was pale, and underneath the dirt was a very radiant woman. I spoke to her in hushed tone, telling her my name and trying to explain; without indulging we were vampires, what was happening. She stirred lightly when I spoke her name and I wondered if she was able to comprehend what I was saying.

I proceed to dress her in the nightgown, before towel drying her hair and loosely braiding it. Satisfied with my work, I collected up the dirty water and soiled material and proceeded out of the room. Edward was stood opposite the door and took the bowl from my hands.

"How is she?" He asked, following me into the kitchen and tipping the contents of the bowl into the sink.

"As well as can be expected. She's unconscious now, but it will not last long. As her change progresses and she becomes more immortal she will lose the luxury of the unconscious state. Do you have any inkling as to what happened?"

"Bits, but it was difficult to decipher what had happened. From what I gathered from his mind, she had come into the hospital morgue already pronounced." Edward divulge. We both stood at the sink washing the soiled towels in soapy water, I noted he did not look at me when he spoke and kept his attention firmly on the task. Something was bothering him.

"What's wrong?" I whispered. Bumping my arm against his yet never taking my attention from the bar of soap and washboard. From my right I felt his stare on my face, I knew his brows were furrowed. It was the same stare he used when reading someone's thoughts, a look of concentration and analysis. Although he could not read my thoughts I was sure he was still trying.

"I know you better than anyone." I repeated the same words he had used earlier that same day. He did not retaliate like I had done, instead dropped his shoulders in defeat.

"I think she may have tried to commit suicide." He stated. I felt my eyes go wide and my whole body seemed to lurch forward. My hands gripped the side of the basin, the white porcelain cracking under my finger tips. Edward gently removed my hands, disallowing the further demise of the sink. My mouth opened and closed several times trying to form a coherent sentence, as if reading my own mind Edward answered the question I could not form.

"I heard her before the venom took over completely, she wondered if she had been successful."

Once again it seemed fate had dealt us a low blow, its view on irony was sadistic. Giving a woman; whose soul intend to was end her life, the curse of immortality was truly twisted. Not only would Esme have to suffer, but fate had used someone with purely good intentions to do its work.

I threw the bar of soap into the sink in exasperation.

People's feelings were complex, this wasn't the wars and one could not simply expect a newborn to leave all previous emotions behind to favor a life of fighting. This alternative lifestyle came with the expectation to listen and except the feelings of others. No war meant more time to dwell and relive the past. I wondered if I could curl up in the kitchen cupboard and hide.

"What do we do?" I asked.

"I'm no damn good with situations like this, when peopled feeling are involved. I can't...I don't no." He placed an arm around my shoulder as I continued to rant. Effectively shutting me up, there lingered a minute of silence where I suspected Edward was weighting up the pros and cons of telling Carlisle.

"I don't think we should tell him." Edward declared. "It's not our place to pry, we should wait until she is ready to tell us." He continued. I pushed the loose hair from my face with my wrist, trying in vain not to get suds everywhere. Before giving him my nod of agreement.

"When did you get so smart piano boy?" I asked.

"When did you get so helpless?" He resorted, pointing to a trail of bubbles than had embedded themselves in the strands of my hair.

"Touché."

"Should we perhaps go watch her?" He asked.

"Why? She isn't going anywhere any time soon. Silly piano boy." I teased. Drying my hands on the kitchen towel, I made my way into the parlor and sat at Carlisle's desk. From the draws pulling out a piece of paper and an ink pen.

"Can we drop the piano boy, I am technically an adult." Edward demanded lamely, sitting on the high back next to the desk. I would have upgraded it to piano man, if he hadn't demanded it with a slight pout on his face.

"Sorry, you have to earn a better nickname." I replied. Beginning to write the hospital address in the right hand corner of the page, although my writing was not completely identical to that of Carlisle's I doubted a human could tell the difference. Yes, it probably was illegal to duplicate his signature at the bottom yet I could not find it in me to care in the slightest.

"Do you think we will have to leave?" Edward asked, passing me an envelope from the draw closest to him.

"I expect so. If we completely disappear from Ashland society with no reason the humans are likely to get suspicious. I will miss this house, though."

"Perhaps we can all return someday. It will have to be out of this generation's living memory."

"Oh, you mean no Mrs Finley, how will we go on." I replied. Fondly remembering the old woman's collection of hats with stuffed animals sewn on, the last encounter it had been a mink. It seemed it was not only the vampires killing off the animal population.

"She does have sons remember."

"Then maybe we should make it two generations."


	12. Chapter Eleven: Changing

_Disclaimer: __I do not own the plot or characters to the Twilight Saga_

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><p><span>Chapter Eleven<span>

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The atmosphere in the house was stifling. For the past two and a half days we had been holed up in the house, I had done everything in my power to avoid an in depth conversation with Carlisle. The last had ended with an uncomfortable silence; in which I thought he was going to ask about Esme.

In a brazen - and rather tactless – way to avoid speaking about the issue, I am confirmed his deductions about my past. We spoke briefly and I was able to answer some of the questions he had regarding the nature of the fighting and its history.

Normally he could tell if there was something bothering either Edward or I, yet I was secretly glad his mind was preoccupied and he over looked my probable strange behavior. Although, it did prove Edward's point - that I was a terrible liar and my attempts to cover the truth ended with me blurting out something inappropriate. _Usually at my own expense. _

In my own efforts to get away from the house, I had offered to deliver Carlisle's resignation to the hospital. They were most unhappy with the turn of events and our sudden departure, but came to accept the story I had invented.

I politely declined a cup of tea with the chief physician; seeing as his office was well into the heart of the hospital and I seriously doubted my own control. I came to realize just how popular and influential Carlisle was within the hospital, as the reference given spoke so highly of him. The way people talked about him, displayed his immeasurable kindness and I had the sudden pang of pride to be a member of his coven.

The run home was uneventful, merely consisting of me having to carry the hem of my long dress and coat to stop them getting wet in the snow. As the house came into view and the thickets of the forest gave way to the snow covered lawn I began to slow. Yet it was the peculiar sight of Edward sitting on the porch swing that stopped me. His feet were planted on the floor and his body slightly reclined into the wooden paneling, as relaxed as he appeared the state of his disarrayed hair - caused by repeatedly dragging his hands through it – confirmed otherwise.

"You alright?" I asked, climbing the porch steps and stopping at the front door.

"You were gone for ages." He replied, not taking his gaze from the snow covered woodland.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be so long, I had to wait for the chief physician to write a reference… how is she?" I immediately felt guilty for leaving and clutched the envelope in my hand a little tighter.

"Carlisle says it's nearly over."I did not fail to hear the relief in this tone of voice. So how was I to tell him the hard part was still to come, newborns were like disobedient children. Strong and very angry children, who most of the time liked to bite those in their way.

I left Edward to his brooding on the porch and proceeded into the house, removing my outer clothing and made my way to Carlisle's study. Knocking once to assure proprietary.

"Come in, Isabella." I was most glad to hear he sounded composed, there was no strain or anguish. He -as perusal - was sat behind a large dark wood desk writing out a letter. After finishing the sentence he carefully laid the ink pen in the wooden groove and turned in his chair giving his entire attention to me.

"The hospital are sad to see you go. Dr Newell was most adamant he wrote you a reference." I said, passing the letter to him. "Although, he does quite like the sound of his own voice."

"Indeed, once he starts with a topic, it's hard to get him to stop." Carlisle chucked.

"Are we to wait much longer? " I inquired, getting straight to the heart of the matter.

"I may have been a vampire for quite a while, but will openly admit having no real experience with the process. Other than Edward, and a couple of witnessed changes during my time with the Volturi, it's new territory." He stated.

"Well, I claim to be no expert, but while in the south, the average changing process varied between two and three days." I tried to explain, he nodded in encouragement for me to continue.

"We experimented with different types of people, different ages, gender. Although crude in nature, we came to realize there was no physical difference in time, it was not until we noticed when changing a human those with less control produced newborns that changed significantly quicker. Vampires with less control tend to take more blood when injecting their venom."

"Less blood may mean the venom is able to spread quicker and over take the humans already weakened systems." Carlisle summarized.

"Exactly, considering your control and diet I highly suspect the change to be the maximum of three days. Although it may also depend on how much blood she lost through her injuries." I mused.

"The theory you sated is quite fascinating, I am surprised the Volturi have not experimented themselves. There seems to be a direct link been blood levels and time… but perhaps they do know. Then again, a single day is nothing to the Volturi." He smiled, gazing humorously at the large painting behind him. The large overbearing oil painting of the three Volturi rulers, dressing in their finery, burgundy eyes gleaming. I sometimes wondered if they had hired a human painter then conveniently disposed of them when it came to pay commission.

"You must truly believe yourself great when you sent someone a giant painting of yourself." I joked, staring into the faces of the self proclaimed royal family of the vampire world.

"You are quite right, only Aro would do such an outlandish thing. In turn, we could send them a seasonal greeting card with our photograph on it?" He teased.

"And risk another giant painting as a Christmas gift. Never." There lingered a comfortable silence in which we both continued to look at the painting that dominated the whole north wall of Carlisle's office. It was only when I heard Esme shift slightly in her bed did I remember the real reason I came to talk and tried to think carefully how to word my sentence before blurting out something insensitive.

"I also thought… perhaps it's best you alone were present when she awakens, being surrounded by others in an unfamiliar setting may… _agitate_ her."I mentally congratulated myself on a sentence well constructed.

"Yes, you're quite right, it is a delicate situation. Maybe it is best to leave first introductions somewhere in the open." He stated, nodded in agreement with my query and continued to mull over the idea. "Maybe we should converge in an open clearing, it would remove any feelings of confinement."

"Edward and I hunt before we meet." I agreed, pulling my fingers through the tangles of my hair. "It's best to have all eyes upon a newborn."

"May I suggest the two of you head south, it may be winter, but heading into the national forest eliminates any chance of a hunting party." He asked, I nodded in agreement.

After leaving the office, I proceed to my own room to wait out the rest of the change. As good hearted as Carlisle may have been I seriously doubted he thought about Esme's clothing options; or the lack of.

The poor woman had one torn and soiled dress to her name, a dress that Carlisle had burn in spirits to rid the house of the smell of blood. I don't think she would appreciate hunting in a long nightgown, it may have been modest but was extremely impractical. So I went about raiding my own overflowing armoire, I deduced we were around the same height; perhaps she had an inch or so above me, and although not the same size as a human, as a vampire we were probably about the same. I dug out a simple, light pink day dress and undergarments along with a pair of leather ankle boots. For hunting a couple of pairs of men's brown breeches and a few baggy shirts, although as a newborn they were unlikely to last one trip - it looked like the Sears catalogue would be getting another large order.

This was the reason I loved clothing so much, it gave our existence a sense of normality.

I left the clothing folded neatly on the chair in the corner of Esme's room. The effects of the venom were apparent now. All injuries she had sustained were gone and her skin now pale and flawless. Her hair that had been brown had lighted into a golden tone and now lay in soft waves. Even with such changes she was still identifiable as Esme and I wondered how much I had changed. I felt a little bitter that I had no answer.

The one thing I was quite sure of: her change was nearing its final hours. Her heart rate had increased tenfold and seemed to hammer loudly around the room. It wouldn't last much longer. She no longer screamed in pain instead occasionally shifted or let out a small moan, either the venom had finally taken over her pain receptors or she was too tired to react. The whole notion of newborns made me slightly uncomfortable - so politely and pointlessly I excused myself from the room towards the safety of my own.

It was not until I started reading about the Lawrence Textile Strike in my book did I finally hear Edward return into the house. I listened as he untied his shoes and placed them on the rack before heading upstairs. Passing Carlisle's office and his own room before coming to a stop in front of mine, I listened as his knuckles rapped against the hard wood door.

"Yes." I called out lazily.

He stepped into the room looked around until his eyes landed on me; sitting against the wall, knees drawn up and reading.

"Have you taken a dislike to chairs?" He asked, standing awkwardly in the middle of my room.

"Not at all, but sitting on the floor seems to humble me a little."I replied, never lifting my gaze from the book balanced on the top of my knees.

"May I join your humbling experience?"

I felt the corner of my lips pull up into a smile and replied accordingly. "One never needs to ask. Everyone could do with being humble once in a while. So pull up a bit of floor space." I patted the vacant space next to me and was happy to find he did not hesitate to take it. He sat in silence for a while; his long legs directly out in front of him unlike mine. I wondered what he was thinking.

"Do you ever get scared?"He whispered, low enough so only I could hear. I felt myself turn to look at him wondering if the question was a joke or he was serious, I got my answer when his gaze stayed firmly on the opposite wall.

"Of what?" I replied timidly.

"Everything."His eyes turned to mine and they were fearfully. My body seemed to move on its own accord and I shuffled even closer to him. Close enough so I was leaning entirely against him.

"I fear everything, but my greatest fear. That one day you and Carlisle may come to realize what kind of person I used to be and instead of seeing me…..you will see a monster. I don't think I will ever completely accept my lost humanity, but I'll try. I'll try to get over my irrational fears and conquer the epic ones. And I'll try to do it with a smile. So Edward what do fear most?"

He idly played with my fingers.

"I fear my feelings will never be reciprocated."


	13. Chapter Twelve: Gone

_Insert guilty looking face. No I haven't fallen off the face of the earth…..although at times it may seem! I've moved three hundred miles from home to university and it's kind of crazy. I will admit between getting a 'little' drunk and going out every night on fresher's week (woops), my writing has kind of taken a back seat. But the whole novelty of it has worn off and I'm still broke eating instant noodles. Once again writing has become my escape from student debt and waking up with a banging head on the kitchen table. _

_Huge thanks to emily Volturi for giving me a kick up the ass and get a chapter out. I was beginning to become kind of lazy. Grazie mille!_

_So without further ado._

_I am: The VII Duchess_

_Disclaimer: __I do not own the plot or characters to the Twilight Saga, although this plot is mine. _

Chapter Twelve: Profugus

"Pardo-" Yet a piercing scream echoed from the spare room, the unexpected noise making me flinch and sending me to my feet. Throwing open the door with a little too much force and splintering the wood from the brass hinges. At the same moment Carlisle stepped out from his study a look of forebodingness past between us, before he took a deep breath and proceeded into the spare room. Even from here the sound of her thundering heart seemed to echo loudly along with her increased agitation.

Nodding in reassurance to myself I marched back into my room, grabbing my black outer coat and pulling it on hastily. While tugging hair free from the coats collar I realized Edward was still in my room, simply standing hands by sides and staring at me expectantly. I raised a brow. He continued to stare.

"Time to move." I said exasperatedly, grabbing his arm. He put up no resistance and allowed me to drag him down the stairs and out the front door.

"W-why are we leaving?"He asked, running his hands through his hair in an agitated manner and breaking the hypnotic state he seemed to be in.

"Too many vampires spoil the broth." I stated, stepping slowly from the porch and towards the forest line. "In other words newborns don't react well to be cornered, it's best if Carlisle does this alone. We agreed to head south and meet in an open space." I clarified. Waving my arm in the general direction we were heading in. Exceedingly happy to find Edward following my direction and there was no need for me to call him like a lapdog. We began to run in the direction I had given, Edward going slightly slower to match my own run.

Each step we took left behind a perfectly never ending imprint; running through the snow always had an eerily magical quality. It seemed leave a smile upon my face and give a little perk to being a vampire. I could stay out in the snow and never fear getting sick. Edward had joked I was easily pleased with material possessions, but I had proven even simple things like snow could make me happy.

Thinking his name bought me back to the conversation we had started, before being interrupted by the situation. Fears were strange. I feared many things. However Edwards fear I did not understand at all. He spoke of never having his feeling reciprocated; perhaps it was more a fear of not being understood. I tried to comprehend everyone's thoughts and feelings to the best of my ability, but have no prior experience with civilized people made it hard. I could see anger, hatred and malice with little trouble. Yet acts of friendliness or trust were difficult to distinguish. I thought of myself very childlike and would most probably have to learn to read emotional signs. Having a coven member like me must be very troubling. I found integrating myself with others exceedingly difficult.

There had been the time the Denali coven had come to visit from their Alaskan territory; once again I had the pleasure of meeting the more civilized members of our species. It had taken me three or four days to understand each member individually and their particular emotions. I had judged each one and sadly my mind had ranked them in order threat. Despite my probably apprehension they were kind and understanding towards my prior diet and history. Going so far as to tell me about their own past and struggles with becoming a _vegetarian. _An idea that perhaps Carlisle and Edward did not fully understand.

I liked them and realized I had also come to miss interaction with other females. For once I could converse about topics I enjoyed; like shopping or gossip about scandals in the papers, and although it was terribly stereotypical I loved it immensely. Although she acted a little cold towards me at first; after a polite rejection from Edward, to which I did not quite understand. Tanya turned out to be a bloody good laugh. She was loud and demanding and our personalities sometimes clashed, yet she was the most fun I had ever had. Tanya had taken to calling Edward 'little boy', something in which he hated but almost bought me to tears. We exchanged stories of failed courting attempts by the opposite sex. She thought nothing of my non existence past and did not deem it an important factor.

Surprisingly it was Carmen who seemed to be most upset by my blank spots; she had asked in the kindest of voices how it was possible that someone of my physical age could have been lost. In her eyes I was a child and the world had lost me I had not it. Her idea of trying to research my past fell short when I said I didn't quite remember my own surname. Or how I had come to awaken in the middle of the Mexican desert.

Yet it was her mate Eleazer, who gave the most creditable reasoning for my blank spots. With an incredible gift to identify the ability of others, he had found it difficult to distinguish my own. As apparently I had a gift.

"Perhaps a mental shield of sorts." He had mused.

Maybe just maybe my own minds protection was keeping some disturbing memories locked away and preventing them from affecting me now. Nothing could ever be simple. Although it did give Edward the answer he so craved as to why I was silent to him.

Yes I would definitely miss the Denali coven and their crazed antics.

I felt my lips twitch into a smirk, I doubt Edward would be receiving one from Tanya.

"Do I even want to know?" Edward asked from somewhere to my right, his body just visible through the thick dense trees.

"Not if you're sensible." Was my quick reply, as I pushed my heels into the river bank and propelled my body across the ten yard gap landing with cat like grace on the other side. He quickly followed making the jump look effortless with his longer legs, an annoyance of physical agility. We continued onwards, me trying to rectify my own dexterity against him.

"Can I at least ask about the coat?" I did not miss the slight confusion behind the question, perhaps he thought me strange to wear a human orientated item while hunting.

"First impressions are everything; I don't want Esme to see me looking like a pauper in men's clothing." I rolled my eyes, absently dusting snow from the sleeves of the thick heavy material. A sense of society norm would not hurt in our first meeting; the strict rules of human life may help with acceptance into this one.

Or maybe I just liked to pretend I too felt the cold.

The thickets of trees began to thin slightly and the snow on the ground began to thicken. We had arrived at the meeting point. It was dark and the only light was cast from the waxing moon. Bellows of cloud moved silently across the sky, covering any stars that may have been present. Even with such insufficient light it posed no threat for the highly evolved eye sight of a vampire, we were indeed predators. I leant lightly against a tree trunk, mindful of my own strength. My hands found their way into the locks of my hair and began the job of untangling it, before aimlessly twirling strands around my finger. As laboring as it was to have such a length of hair, I had grown attached to it.

"So was your first impression of me a bad one?" Edward asking from across the clearing, his posture against a tree mirrored my own.

"Well being man-handled is not exactly a good way to introduce one's self. Intuitive though, I'll give you that." I joked, subtly trying to copy Edward's relaxed stance and pretending I wasn't bothered by the anxiety of the situation. Waiting patiently had never exactly been my forte.

"So you would have liked me better if I had given a better impression?" He questioned.

I laughed and shook my head while aimlessly digging the toe of my shoe into the white snow. "No, quite the contrary it makes our friendship much more interesting."

"So is that how you see us?" He replied.

The muscles in my forehead twitched, sending my face into a confused frown. In the future I would look back and realize just what kind of ultimatum was being thrown at me, but for now the situation was so outrageous I didn't even consider it. So responded.

"What are you-well of course, I consider you one of my closest."

It was that single phrase that seemed to change the entire dynamic of our conversation. I watched as his face changed to a look of defeat before taking on a darker hollow edge. "Friends." He seemed to taste the word in his mouth and find it terribly foul. Edward let out a disbelieving laugh and ran his hands through his hair.

"What would you say if I told you I didn't want to be friends?" He asked rather darkly.

"W-well I guess that's up to you, I can't tell you how to feel." I replied quietly, earnestly trying not to let the hurt show its self. It seemed I had misjudged even our most basic of relationship. I watched as he turned his back to me, ran his hands through his hair like always and said.

"Things were so much easier before you came."

Who knew that those little words could hurt so much? My body recoiled in protection as my throat constricted cutting off the sharp inhale that followed. The pain that flared through me was worse than any vampire bite I had ever sustained; it pulsated then spread taking a hard grasp in my chest. Feeling raw and exposed my arms wrapped themselves around my torso in a meek attempt of comfort.

Life with me was difficult. I was a burden to them.

The rational side of me began to retreat, trying in vain to protect its self from the pain. We were; by definition, animals that reacted to unpleasant situations based on fight or flight. As the next bitter wind blew through the clearing rustling the leaves on the evergreen pines, I was gone. Melting into the darkness of the shadows with skill only a predator could hardness. Fueled by a desire to escape and hide I ran south. Pushing my legs harder as if the devil himself was following.

To them it would be like I never existed.

…

_Oh man depressing, I didn't want to write Bella being so dense towards love but having no prior experience (that she could remember) and feeling unworthy kind of wrote it's self. I really wanted the whole 'just friends' thing to be incorporated, it happened to me once and I felt so cheated. All that bloody effort for a guy to call be his good buddy, looks like my Wonderbra was a total waste. _

_Oh and it won't be one of those 'she comes back ninety years later and the Cullen's are in Forks.' Nahhh she's be back in some kick ass way. Although I did really want to write in Edward's POV when he realized she's gone, the look on his face would have written itself. Poor Esme and Carlisle having to deal with an angsty teenaged vampire. Then again Edward just isn't Edward without a bit of angst and self loathing. _

_Ciao._


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Cosa Nostra

Yay for my new laptop, but so much for shipping in two days! Took a whole week. Even then they wouldn't deliver to my university flat, so I had to go to the post office and pick it up. Epic fail. On the plus side no more parting for me because I am officially skint.

_So without further ado._

_I am: The VII Duchess_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the plot or characters to the Twilight Saga, although this plot is mine._

Chapter Thirteen: Cosa Nostra

July 14th 1926

The warm stagnant air from the days soaring temperatures still lingered well into the darkness of the night, even the cover of the night did not elevate the humid sticky feeling. Crickets still buzzed and chirped from the shrubbery as the sun slowly met the horizon. Dusk painted the indigo sky with hues of pink and orange, as the night slowly killed away the light of day. I could ask for not better hunting weather, the heat and buzz in the atmosphere sent my prey out of hiding. Not even the prohibition law could keep the humans inside.

Sat upon the shores of the great lake and named after the large expanse of water the city of Erie was a prime location for the importation of alcohol from across the Canadian border. It may have not been the centre of attention in Pennsylvania, but there was no doubt the city was wet. People liked to keep their night time escapades separate from the day; it was easy to create a persona here.

Humans were gullible to start, mix in a little moonshine and they were stupid. All a gall had to do was show her gams and flutter her lashes. The food came running. For once being top of the food chain never felt so good.

There was one particular place downtown, behind the back of an old abandoned industrial warehouse and through a graffiti ridden wooden door. The Killarney Yacht Club. A notorious hot spot of Erie's own mobster culture, those who enjoyed the sound of dark sultry jazz and were not afraid to gamble their cash away. The hooch was imported from across the lake, served in expensive glasses with a wedge of lime and sold to gullible punters at inflated prices. Yet who was I to complain, it got my prey intoxicated and made my life so much easier. Not to mention mob talk was entertaining, so wrapped up in their little business to notice the seemingly innocent dame sitting on the bar stools plotting their own gruesome deaths.

The Peckerwood gang were regulars, having placed a claim upon the club after fighting another mob for the street rights. I doubted they would last long if I kept picking off their members at the rate I was going, but they always noticed me. Sitting on my bar stool in my short dress, a smile to a caught eye got me a drink. I would drink it for appearances. Followed by a meeting outside and dinner for my ravished appetite, plus a little bonus if they hadn't gambled all the money away. Something had to feed my exquisite taste in expensive clothing

And said clothes were currently being kept in a small townhouse just outside the central city area; said house belonged to a man who was on a...leave of absence. I wouldn't be able to stay here for long, no doubt when they realized the man had not returned from his 'holiday' people would come knocking. Yet for the moment it would do as a base.

My fingered grazed across the multitude of fabrics and stopped on a beautiful emerald chiffon dress. Its beaded hem fringe and faux jewels along the décolletage screamed with garish beauty. And yet I was completely enticed. It was short just reaching the top of my knee, but apparently this was the trend of the young fashionable. Who was I to deny myself the pleasure of fitting in? All it needed was a pair of chic lined stockings a dash of rouge upon my lips and a pair of heels. It seemed I was indeed ready for a night of debauchery.

I gave the yacht club a miss, after snacking on a high raked member of the Peckerwood gang a week ago and thought it best if they had a little time to regroup. Instead I headed straight to another bar named Laura's, situated in downtown north by the docklands.

The roads were still busy with motorcars, public trams and the odd cart. All still taking people to and fro the centre of the city. Main Street was a flow with nicely dressed people heading towards expensive looking venues, social groups gathered outside the lavish theater waiting for the next show. The marble clad building and its flashy neon signs advertised the wealth the city could boast. Even the simple working class could now buy their way into a slice of the high life; people had money and could afford luxury material possessions.

Even the likes of me; who had come to this fair city with nothing, would leave with a hefty sum to my name. As devastating as the war may have been, the country could not deny it had been beneficial to the economy. The exports to Europe had seen a steep increase and growth in the stock market; those who dared to gamble could make a pretty wage. Speculation was a full time job. I borrowed, invested, waited till the right moment then sold. Sometimes more than doubling the amount I started with. I had even set up a deal with my own stock broker in New York; he was closer to Wall Street than I could ever dream. With a deal of twenty percent between us I dare say he made quite the profit, yet it was impossible for me to operate my own finances in the light of day and in such a densely populated area. It would be utter carnage.

I had met Mister Swain on several occasions on his visits to Erie, always on an over cast day and under the guise of Mrs. Isabella Ritter. The wife of a prominent city banker and supervisor of her husband's financial dealings. Mister Ritter liked an upfront payment of cash, preferring to place his money in secure offshore account. Which happened to be a large leather suitcase under my bed, ready in case I needed to depart in a hurry. Of course my husband was never able to attend these meetings, but the large ring on my finger squashed any qualms of a lie. Who knew the ring I had carried with me so faithfully since my awakening could actually be of use.

That's just what I loved about the city; there was no need for forged papers or documents, elaborate back stories were taken on face value.

I dodged a cloud of tobacco smoke and ash as a woman carelessly flicked her cigarette to the side. Normally I went for wrong doing males, but if this harlot burnt my dress I had no worries in dragging her down an ally and drinking her dry. Lucky for her the tasteless dress she wore and ridiculous cheek stain had survived this time.

Upon walking past the grandeur of Main Street and merely a quarter of a mile later, I came into the docklands. Although its buildings were not as sleek as those in the city centre, it held an air of industrious beauty. The streets were cobbled and lined with numerous glass fronted shops, colorful awning creating ideal cover for elicit deals in the dark. Everything a human required to live in relative comfort and places I avoided.

It was hard to relate or understand such areas when you did not live the life of a human. Shopping for food was a bizarre and I had often stopped to watch humans carefully selecting their items from the stalls outside. They were picky and chose fruit and vegetables based on size and color. I too was particular about my own food, usually preying upon those who chose to defy the law.

And where better to find a decent meal than a speakeasy.

It was the deep bass of the jazz music that alerted my senses to my arrived destination. Conveniently situated down a narrow side ally and under the glare of its own neon sign, Laura's was hidden in plain sight under the pretence of a jazz hall. There were a couple of worn stone steps and a black cast iron hand rail framing the large metal door. But before one could even consider walking on through that door, they had to contend with a large and rather stocky door keeper.

The drag of his cigarette lit up the prominent features of his face and plunged the others into darkness. A cheap black suit barely covered the heaving and unnatural looking muscles around his torso, while there was not a wisp of hair upon his head. He leant casually against the brick wall continuing to take long puffs and blowing the smoke high into the air.

I gave an indignant little cough to gain his attention.

He lifted his gaze to meet mine before the milky blues of his eyes roamed over the rest of my body, taking in the expensive clothing that he had become so accustom to seeing with those who came to drink. The cigarette that had sat in between his lips was stubbed against the brick wall, before he pushed his weigh forward and came from the shadows.

"Now what's a pretty little dame like you doing round here?" He smirked, sticking his roughly callused hands deep within the pockets of the black suit.

"I've come to see the good doctor." I replied, allowing my white teeth to gleam with the smile I presented. The shiver that passed through the muscles along his neck and the hair that stood up along his nape all clear indication of the danger he faced. In response he stood straighter, pulled on the lapels of his jacket and tried to look as intimidating as possible. Before giving me an accepting nod and rapping his knuckles against the metal door, the threshold to sinners and drunks were wide open.

It was dimly lit, the stench of alcohol, smoke and humans putrefied the air. The bar to the left was long and made if a heavy duty wood, it shimmered with cheap gloss and scarred with numerous indents. Behind the bar on three large shelves were hundreds of bottles filled with colorful liquids, each one labeled with a legal soft drink name yet smelt of the foul stench of alcohol. Glasses and tumblers hung from a rack directly above the bar, it rocked back and forth as the bar staff repeatedly grabbed for one.

Opposite the bar were a mish mash of different shaped tables and odd chairs. Each one with a small flickering tea candle in a painted jar, some even had the odd flower in other strange containers. The room was alive with people drinking, smoking and listening to the loud roaring band playing from the stage. My coat was taken upon entry and I couldn't help but be a little flattered by the number of eyes that turned in my direction.

Although no petty gangs ran this part of the city it was comment knowledge the district came under the territory of the Italian Cosa Nostra, an organized group based primarily on a strict hierarchy and centered on a small group of related males. As modern as these people like to view themselves, behind the glamour of the speakeasy lay the dirt and corruption of illegal activities. Get into trouble with the wrong sorts of people and you'd simply disappear. It was easy pickings for my own business.

I was doing the city a favor, ridding it of those who did not abide by the law.

And for that service to the city I deserved to have a little fun, a table in the corner away from the bustling bar was a perfect place to scout for my meal. No sooner had I established myself; donning the perfect human façade, did a waiter appear at my table and place a drink down. The drink- identified as a Bronx- was by far the easiest to swallow; the sharp taste of the citrus masked the bitterness of homemade liquor.

It had been sent by an admirer at another table.

The sweet sickliness of the chemicals invaded my mouth and throat as I slipped delicately at the alcoholic beverage. Even that strange still wedge of lime that clung to the rim of my highball glass did nothing to improve the upset churn of my stomach. As much as I loved being able to openly exist in such an establishment; appearing almost human under the dim lights and smoky atmosphere, having to empty my stomach later was a pitiful consequence.

As the band started their latest rendition my eyes finally landed on him, my apparent admirer. Sat a mere three tables away and directly next to the stage, was the human male who had signed his own death certificate. There was no doubt in my mind that this particular individual was an office working city slicker, for there was not a callous upon his hands. He sat alone, gin in one hand cigarette in the other. A well cut expensive suit, shiny leather brogues. But for all this decoration there was no hiding the fact he was an average looking guy. A baby like face with ordinary features and dirty blonde hair that had been slicked back.

I watched the human male from underneath the thick black length of my lashes, calculating mentally how long it would be before the taste of alcohol was replaced with the crimson liquid I so craved. Judging by the state of the already swaying man not long. He tipped the remaining drink into his mouth, giving a small cough as it undoubtedly burned a little. Straighten the crook in his black tie and he proceeded to swaggered across from his table and too my own. Little did he know it would be like walking to the gallows. Yet he did not stop the alcohol in his system made him fearless.

"This seat taken doll?" He replied with a lazy pretence, but the tempo of his heart told another story.

"Not at all." I replied huskily, pushing out the wooden chair with my foot. Watching as he smirked in apparent triumph and sat in the seat next to me. I turned my attention from him and towards the band as they finished their rendition of Tiger Rag, joining the masses as they applauded a classic. Listening to a live jazz band was far more for filling than that of a scratchy record on a phonograph, one could feel the vibrations of the instruments and it seemed to spur me on.

"I haven't seen you around here before." He stated, managing to catch the eye of a passing waiter and ordering another drink. I took a small sip of my own, before replying.

"I'm new in town."

"British?" Baby face asked with a hint of surprise. The nod and smile I give was as sickly sweet as the beverage I was drinking. He grabbed the glass from the waiter as it arrived and that's when I saw it. The faint and almost untraceable band of light skin around the base of his second most ulnar finger, he was most probably a married man.

Let the games begin.

And end perfectly with his corpse bone dry and floating in the great expanse of Lake Erie.

I was doing the world a favour.

And no self-righteous vampire could tell me otherwise.

….


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Corpus Corporis

_No excuses I'm just being incredibly lazy, back home in Shropshire for reading week and trying to eat my body weight in real food not instant noodles! Already had the first 500 words written but then…..I got stuck. I had an ending and a beginning but had to connect the two._

_So I am going to pull an all-nighter! Got copious amounts of chocolate new Florence + The Machine album and I will not stop till chapters done. Because when a reviewer says put a bloody chapter up already (and please do if I'm being slow) I will. _

_I am The VII Duchess_

_I do not own the rights or characters of the Twilight Saga, but this plot is mine. _

Chapter Fourteen: Corpus Corporis

October 30st 1930 Cleveland, Ohio

"Monsters are real, ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes they win." –Stephan King

The corpse hit the ground with a hollow thud, void of the sloshing sound that usually accompanied a violent jostle. Even the open wound around his neck failed to clot or even bleed, for there was not enough blood in his system for such a luxury. Just two small; yet perfectly formed, punctures directly above his jugular vein. They were married to a ring of black and purple bruising where his spinal column had been snapped clean in two, an action that had bought about a swift and easy end.

Feeling particularly festive about hallows eve, I had even gone so far as to hide the body under some newly planted shrubbery in the park. Decomposition would do wonders for the soil.

I had never been one to uphold a strange tradition like Hallowe'en. But no sooner had the grocers began displaying their autumn harvests and the leaves begin to collect along the streets in hues of gold, I became enchanted. The shop windows became filled with pictures of ghouls, witches and black cats, while children spoke animatedly about guising. An apparent form of begging while dressed in an elaborate costume. For a night humans could pull on a guise and pretend to be the very creatures they feared throughout the year.

Yet the city was in a pitiful state. The celebration of Halloween did not seem as abundant as it once was.

It had been almost a year to the day since the events and repercussions of 'black Thursday' and the weekend that followed. The stock market in which we had placed so much faith and so much money had crashed. Stocks and businesses once worth millions of dollars were made worthless in the space of weeks. During mid-September the market had become slow and the price of stock had fallen slightly. I was advised; by my new stockbroker, to sell the remaining shares I had invested in the steel works. The move had saved my investment and acquired me somewhat of a small profit.

By the start of October I had once again made the decision to move. Bored with life away from the great lakes, Cleveland was a convenient answer to my problems. By the New Year I would be in a new city; with a house in my own name and ready to invest once the market picked back up. Yet the belief in a permanently high market plateau was built upon optimism and confidence. After the drop in September the markets foundation began to crumble and assurance began to waver. In a space of two days over thirty billions dollars was lost, and with it the savings and livelihood of hundreds upon thousands of people.

The wave of prosperity that we though invincible had ended.

While I had landed upon my immortal feet the same could not be said for the humans. A direct consequence of the crash was the closure of the banks, even those who did not dabble in stocks and bonds lost their savings. Businesses filed for bankruptcy and unemployment ran into the millions. Unable to pay mortgages eviction rates soared and a new breed of homeless shelter took form.

Cleveland's own shanty town; or self-named Hooverville, came in the form of a man made strip of land known as Whisky Island. It was now filled with roughly constructed houses and shacks, homing victims of the financial crash. If one were to walk down by the old River the life and times of Whiskey Island were clear to hear.

Those who lived in the make shift towns were easy pickings for a vampire, already weak and malnourished from the poor conditions it was an easy kill. But I could not bring myself to do it. Most were innocent people forced to bear the brunt of such hardships, perhaps whatever higher force out there was also punishing the sinners. The boundaries between good and evil had become distorted as everyone was forced to fight for survival. And I wondered what right I had in choosing a target for my meal. Killing a simple man was not so simple.

Once again as yet another year came into its final months, the wave of invincibility I had been riding upon seemed to come crashing beneath my feet. My own foundations began to show their cracks. And my morals were thrown under a spot light. It had been almost nine years since I had cast myself from the other path. Nine years since my principles became distorted under the weight of a broken heart. And here upon the eve in which ghosts and monsters were supposed to roam the land, maybe I had come to realize the monsters were not the mortals.

My own pitiful monologue was cut short as a couple walked close by; the overcast day may have hidden the secret of my skin but could not cover the blazing crimson of my irises. I melted backwards further into the depths of the trees, away from the deep grave I had dug with my bare hands. I fine effort if I did say so.

That's when something else replaced the smell of the trees and dirt, something putrid. The scent became stronger as I pushed my way through the dense shrubbery, clinging to everything and slowly getting stronger. As the sickly odor mixed with the richness of decay, I stopped breathing altogether. My mind had already deduced what lay ahead, but morbid curiosity kept my feet moving.

From my left the plant life had been trodden down and there were signs of a struggle. Dried blood stained the ground, diluted and faded from the copious amounts of rain that had passed since it had been shed. My own leather boots were caked with the mud and leaf litter from the malting fall trees.

"Ugh." The sound passed my lips in response to the horrific sight before me. My nose wrinkled in disgust at the putrefied corpse left mangled at the foot of a tree. Identifiable; as a woman, only by the torn dirty pink dress and long ratty black reminisce of hair. She had obviously been here for a while; the plunging temperatures had done nothing to stop the process of decay. For once I was glad the need to breath was not compulsory.

Mouth open in a silent scream, eyes wide; minus their organ. Her skin blue tinged and beginning to recede around her bones with rot and infestation of tiny creatures. It was a harrowing sight and a pitiful end for anyone. I may have not been religious but I hoped mercy upon her soul.

It was not the first body I had seen in such a condition, this city in particular was crawling with unidentifiable human remains. It was more common to come across the odd limb or torso, even a decapitated body. But to find a corpse whole, having been the victim of a murder was very strange.

And before I could wonder what manner of person could produce such a sight, my eyes wondered to the woman's neck and it became apparent. The tear across her throat and rip into the jugular vein were consistent with and animal attack. But with such an assault would leave copious amounts of blood and there was not a drop. It seemed there was another vampire in the city.

The overpowering stench covered any trace of the unknown foe and I was not going to risk inhaling at such close proximity. My clothes were already destined to be burnt and I was to bathe in scalding water. As to the reason why this woman had been left to rot in the open was a hunting preference. Were as favored a quick and hopefully relatively painless end for my victims, other vampires liked the thrill of a chase. Disposing of a body was not in their priorities.

Casting one last look at body with a quite hope that her body would return to the ground before a poor unsuspecting human ventured too far into the trees, I moved on.

It was only upon rejoining the park walkway and moving upwind of the corpse did the smell finally recede. Although it did seem to have saturated its way into my clothing and hair. Pulling the coral pink cloche hat further down I managed to conceal my red eyes from a passing couple, who in turn tipped their heads in my direction. My attempts of a possible lead on the vampire were quickly nulled when I discovered the lashings of rain the autumn had gifted us had washed away any trace of a scent.

Huffing in annoyance at the current murder mystery I had encountered decided to count my losses and head towards my suburban home. Avoiding the human infested streets of the shopping district and industrial docklands my walk home took me through the less desirable areas of the city. I would often come hunting on paydays, watch the factory workers run home through the rough areas. Their pay placed in a shabby hand sewn pocket on the inside of their thin coats, safe from those who lurked in the alleys. Muggers came out in droves each month to steal from the hard working; once or twice I had played a victim.

Much like the corpse I had come across, the city was beginning to rot with its own infestation of vagabonds and thieves. How nice it must be to live under the protection of the woods hunting animals. Where even the reality of an economic depression could not bite. How nice it must be.

And now some foolish vampire had come into my city. Into my territory. Left a human body to fester and soil my hunting ground, it was a blatant show as disrespect and I took it was a personal attack upon myself. I hoped for their sake they had been passing through.

"Hello doll face." A deep scratchy voice leered.

I turned to my right in response, gazing into the shadows of a narrow passage between some rundown buildings. Standing hunched and against the brick work for stability; for his obviously fragile condition, was one of Cleveland's many criminals. Dressed in a dirty stained trench coat, worn leather boots and fingerless gloves he was the cliché bad guy. Even branding a pistol in my direction.

Not in the slightest of moods to play his sordid games, advanced on him quickly. In one fell swoop the pistol was in my hands and he was looking at his own hands dumbly. There was a dull thud as the butt of the gun hit him in the temple and he fell to the ground deadweight. Still alive but very much unconscious.

He was just lucky I was rethinking my morals; usually I would have snapped the idiot's neck.

But I was keeping the pistol.

Feeling decisively more happy having taking the brunt of my anger out on a human, once again started for home. But stiffened when a voice called out.

"Isabella."

….

_As I was writing about finding a body decided to Google murders in Cleveland 1930s (because that's what runs through my head), and low and behold the Cleveland Torso Murderer came up. Also known as the Mad Butcher of Kingsbury Run, the perpetrator was never caught and the official body count was 12 victims between 1935 and 1938. However the leading detective thought the number of victims could have been around 40 and between 1920 and 50. _

_So why not throw a couple of random torsos into the story? _


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Comes Comitis

_Thanks to everyone still keeping up with the story, reviewing and such. Sorry for the delay my first Uni assignment was due in last Friday, and seemed to take over my entire life. But it's done! Christmas is coming and I'm going home, back to Shropshire and great expanses of green. Which also means no Uni, no job, no drinking myself into a stupor. And best of all real food! _

_My name is The VII Duchess, I love long posh sounding words and I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga. (But best scene from Breaking Dawn had to be the Volturi after the credits. Michael Sheen and his love of grammar. )_

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><p><span>Chapter Fifteen: Comes Comitis<span>

.

..

...

...

I knew the voice well, yet it seemed a small age since I had heard it. With it came the onslaught of memories of a seemingly forgotten past, one I wished I would never have to relive. My body refused to face him, but tensed as the sound of his footsteps echoed against the ground and his scent encountered my senses.

"Nicely handled by the w-"

"Percival." I whispered. Hoping the vampire behind me was not the same one I had parted with all those many years ago.

"Yes, Ma'am" He confirmed.

I turned to face a vision I was almost sure I would never have to set eyes upon again. He had not changed in the slightest. Even the clothes he wore were almost the same, still stained with the remnants of dead vampires, humans and sand. That gingery scent still saturated with the salty smell of the dunes. He was archaic. Reminding me of an out of date version of myself that still seemed too lingered, he represented the false start I had been given. The reason I could never live or be accepted by the Cullen's.

"I thought I made myself quite clear upon our parting." I hissed. Ever so slightly curling my lip over my teeth, proving he would be laxed to find a friend within me, and I was not above resorting to physical violence if the explanation was not valid. He took a step back, raising his hands in surrender.

"I didn't come here to recruit you, Isabella." He replied.

"Then why are you here?" I countered defensively. "And how in the name of God did you find me?"

"I wasn't seeking you out, I swear. It was by complete chance; a fluke, that I came across your scent. I was heading up north." He stopped, scrubbing a hand across his face and pushing back the hair that obscuring his view.

"North?" I pressed. There lingered a moment of silence.

"They're all dead. Only three of us survived." He replied. While his eyes wandered past me and seemed to look wistfully into the distance. Perhaps he was reliving a memory, one that ended unpleasantly for his red eyes soon snapped back to mine after a moment.

"They're all dead." He repeated. I didn't show him any sympathy; I didn't have any sympathy to give. So replied with a straight faced.

"How?"

"Maria." Percy reply with a dark chuckle of disbelief. . "Maria, and her band of merry fucking men." I raised my brow at his colourful use of language but did not comment. After all these years Maria was still out there roaming the wild salt flats, like her own personal playground. And somehow comparing her to an legendary English outlaw was hardly an insult. But I would give credit where it was due; she was a persistent bitch.

"They ambushed the newborns while we were out recruiting. Bloody cowards."

"And the others?" I inquired, discretely straining my senses to detect any other vampires discreetly hidden in the near vicinity. The situation would not bode well for me in an ambush while in such drawn quarters.

"No, we all parted ways." He replied. I nodded but did not drop my guard; vampires weren't exactly known for their truthful ways. "We were unsure if Maria had planned to hunt us down, so splitting up-"

"Decreases the chance of detection. Yes, yes very good, but now you're out." I interrupted, waving my left hand to dispel his _oh so_ tragic story.

"Now I'm out, Ma'am?"

I shifted uncomfortably under his questioning gaze and shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I needed to know if he was a threat towards this style of life I had created for myself, a little world that I felt relatively safe and protected from the past. And as selfish as it may have seemed, Percy was the embodiment of the history that was chasing me.

The awkward silence was broken as the unconscious man to my left gave a grunt of pain and rolled on his side.

"Perhaps we should get out of here, unless you're planning on..." Percy clacked his teeth together.

"You honestly expect me to bite into...that." I sneered, gesturing to the unclean man who was currently sprawled across the ground and slowly coming back into consciousness.

"Meals a meal." He replied shrugging. Even his morbid sense of humour remained intact after all these years.

"Can you control yourself?" As much as I desired to tell him to take a proverbial hike and leave me be. There were rules to follow when living as a vampire in a big city, rules that must be abided by. That was, unless one wanted to concede to the wrath of the Volturi guard. And I was planning on living to see the New Year.

"Yes." He nodded. "I'll be fine."

With the vagabonds new found consciousness now a pressing matter, I reluctantly came to a decision to which I hoped I would not regret.

"Very well then. I have a house about half a mile from here. I suppose you could follow through the back streets." I gestured to his clothing. "Seeing as you are covered in…stains."

"Or." He replied strolling over to the human and crouched down. "I could take this guy's coat."

"You really want to wrap that foul smelling item around yourself?"

Percy shrugged, before roughly tugging the item from the human's body. The vagrant moaned louder at the violent jostle, but saved his own neck by keeping his eyes closed as the coat was wrestled from him. The article of clothing was not bad in itself, a long dark trench coat with an array of deep pockets. Probably once an expensive piece of winter wear, it now looked and smelled like it had seen one too many cold snaps. Perhaps I was vain or my standards were too high, but Percy pulled on the coat with little resistance or problem.

"Believe me there's worst smelling shit in this city." He replied, pulling the collar up to hide the majority of his pale face. I nodded in understanding recalling the rotting corpse earlier this day, before wondering if Percy was the cause of such a sight. But I had always known him to be a tidy hunter.

We moved swiftly from the alley and back onto the street, acting like the mere mortals were tried so hard to hide amongst. Percy wisely kept his crimson eyes down and followed obediently at my side, hands thrust deep into the patched up pockets. We moved quietly and swiftly through the streets avoiding people and heading south down a river branch.

The house in which I had bought was large colonial style building, with a straight faced wooden clad front, and green shutter windows. It sat to the west of Cuyahoga Valley National Park, in a suburban area away from the busy city centre. As strikingly ordinary as the house may have been, it was the first building I had ever purchased. Impossibly too large for me and decorated impeccably. It was the true epitome of home.

And as we both walked down the paved path to the door, my reluctancy to let another vampire into my domain was overwhelming. It was my territory, my four walls with perfectly pruned front lawn. I told him to keep off the grass and ignored the strange look I received.

"Nice place you got here." He commented upon entering, gazing around the doubt height hallway. "Very nice indeed. Legal or illegal?"

"Legal." I bit out. "You can place that discussing coat on the hook; I'm going to have to burn my clothes anyway."

"Why did the big bad human touch you?" He laughed mockingly, doing as he was told and placing the garment on the end hook anyway. I placed my own hat and coat on the adjacent peg, before removing all the small bobby pins from my hair and placing them in the glass dish.

I rolled my eyes. "No I had a run in with a rotting corpse. City Centre Park, you're doing?"

"Hell no, I bury mine the required six feet or under a tree. Depending on what's nearest." He replied. "Sounds like were not the only vampires in Cleveland."

"Looks to be that way."

I moved us into the drawing room, while deciding to take my preferred chair next to the empty hearth. Percy took his time looking around, studying the room before planting himself in front of the bookcase. I had never taken him for the studious type.

"A fan of the classics I see."

"Yes."

"Ah, Dracula, that was always a firm favourite of mine. Yet now upon reading it again, it seems so terribly…..ironic." He said, touching the leather spine of the well-read book.

"Look do you think it's possible any of your…..friends may have followed you here?"

"Doubtful, we went in opposite directions." He said. I nodded to signal I had indeed heard him, while dragging my fingers through my hair to remove the knots.

"Wait, you remember Elsie right?" He asked.

"Tall, willowy and extremely bossy for a newborn. That Elsie?" I countered, remembering the number of times I had pulled her off another newborn after getting into a fight.

"Yeah that's the one. Always so scrappy." He laughed. "Well she went and found herself a mate. Good lad, strong and stocky, they made quite a pair. Last time I saw them, little and large, were heading south."

"How…adorable."

"It was quite sickening actually."

With grace and elegance only an immortal could possess, Percy placed himself onto the cream upholstered chaise lounge under the window. And sprawled with vampire like arrogance. A sudden reminder of Edward sent my eyes running to the floor.

"So do you have a plan?" I wondered aloud. Removing a small strand of lint that had become entangled in the ends of my hair.

"A plan to entrap a female of my own, or a life plan?" He joked. Showing me his white teeth with a grin and a wag of the brows.

"Life plan." I affirmed sternly.

"Well, I hear Canada's rather nice this time of year, never seen snow before so think that's a must. But the worlds my oyster and I've got all eternity."

I could not help but feel a little relieved his plans did not entail sticking around, although having his company seemed to lift the bout of loneliness that had encompassed my little world. Being able to speak so openly about the trials and tribulations of vampirism was welcoming.

"The whole world, eh?"

"Minus Italy, think I'll give that one a wide birth." We both nodded in agreement, before he looked over at me with a confused gaze. Tilting his head to one side in apparent confusion.

"Wait, I was under the impression you were on good terms with the Volturi. Aro even asked after you upon our little _tête-à-tête_."

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><p><em>I based the character of Elsie and her mate on my Uni professor and her husband. She's almost 6ft and he's tiny and muscular. So we decided to nickname them little and large (in secret), just a hilarious coupling. <em>

_A cool thing I learnt today, the town crier in my hometown is Hagrid's official body double for the Harry Potter Movies. He is also the world's tallest town crier, how awesome. Finally putting Shrewsbury on the map for a kick ass reason. _


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Delirare

_Merry Christmas (or Hanukkah) everyone! I hope you are all having a wonderful day. I was so pleasantly surprised to see updates in my inbox, thought I may as well put the chapter up. (Was originally aiming for Boxing Day, but it's more fun this way!)_

_So I hope you continue to have a great day, eat lots and be merry! _

_I am The VII Duchess, who is off to watch the Doctor Who Christmas special and start her Harry Potter box set. All the while eating more chocolate than physically possible. Oh and I don't own The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Sixteen: Delirare<span>

.

..

...

...

"Asked after me?!" I mirrored with a bite. "But I have never even come across the Volturi. I've never met them." I could not contain the slight swell f of pain within my chest, that rippled outwards as if my heart was trying to pulsate into life. It was accompanied by the sound of ripping fabric that alerted me to the fact my fingers had torn their way through the lavender coloured upholstery on my chairs padded arms. Having once been sat in the comfort of horse hair seat padding was now sat upon the edge of my seat.

Percy looked baffled.

"I-He definitely asked after you." He stuttered, moving quickly from his relaxed display into a more etiquette pleasing upright posture. Hands met and fingers laced.

"Aro, are you positive it was Aro?" I interrogated, stressing the vampire's name as if it would make a blind bit of difference.

He nodded. "There were two that seemed to be in control. One with blonde almost white hair-"

"Caius?"

"I am unsure as to his name it was not mentioned, but he did address the other male as Aro. They were extremely pale, almost translucent. Aro was slightly taller, long dark hair." Percy continued, obviously recalling the meeting in his mind and reliving the moment. Which warranted a question on my behalf.

"What happened? Tell me everything." I demanded.

"Everything?"

"Having never met Aro Volturi I wish to know just how he claims to know me. So yes, every bloody detail please."

Percy nodded his head, brown shaggy hair bobbed in rhythm. "It was about a year and a half after you left; we had good numbers and had taken up an extra square mile of territory." He recalled, absentmindedly pushing his thumbs together and making them arch.

"That was until an even more experienced army came from the eastern dunes, left us crippled with merely a handful of newborns. There was talk that Maria's army had gone south and was trying to take the area surrounding Mexico City. To what extend it was true I have no idea. But that was the reason the Volturi were in the area, Maria had sparked their interest and they were looking for information regarding her newborns."

"Suss out the target." I said.

"Indeed. Took us completely by surprise in an outcrop of trees along the outskirts of the dunes. Seemed to come from know where, two leaders. And five members of their guard, two looked to be boarder line immortal children if you ask me. But damn did they pack a fucking punch, especially that blonde kid."

"Jane and Alec."

"Sadistic little things they were. Hate written all over their faces. Only took the two of them to subdue us all, killed one of the newborns who wouldn't stand in line. Aro then delightfully announced he would allow us to live in exchange for information regarding Maria; real casual, like death wasn't the topic at hand. I told him the rumor of her fleeing south. He seemed satisfied, and then asked after you. I said I had no idea where you were. Then they left. Not before giving us a quick rundown of the rules though." he finished, slouching backwards into the cream floral chaise.

And as simple as the story may have been something did not add up and my dilemma was still unanswered. I recalled gazing upon the large portrait that hung in Carlisle's study and conversations we had been told about the history and might of the Volturi.

With that I came to a conclusion that I did not like.

"Did he make contact with you?" I asked Percy.

"What?"

"Did Aro touch you? I don't care if he hit you, pat you on the back, or even kissed you. Did. He. Make. Contact. With. You?"

He frowned; in probable disbelief, but nodded slowly.

"Before departing he shook my hand. Why?"

The breath left my lips quickly and my hands found their way into my hair and tugged repeatedly. Aro had seen all of Percy's memories no doubt, including seeing me destroy Horace. So for what reason did he have for asking about me, I hadn't broken any rules? But somehow it seemed unlikely he wanted to say thanks for removing a bastard like Horace from the world. Did he think I knew more about Maria? Or was it something more sinister, like recruitment. But I wasn't special like his guard; the only thing Percival knew was I was not effected by mental intrusions or gifts. And I could only protect myself. Not exactly prime guard material.

Allowing another breath outwards, I too fell back into the safety of the comfortable armchair. Sticking my feet straight out and stretching the muscles in my legs. The urge to go for a run was almost overwhelming and chance to rid myself of the pressure of this conversation.

"Why? Why does it matter?" He all but growled, there were traces of worry and panic now adorning his face. The pattern of this discussion had now fallen in my favor.

"You were not foolish to think the leader of the Volturi was without a talent of his own?" I chided, falling back into a familiar role of pretentious superior. A role that would always replace any weakness that peaked through, a role that had assured; no doubt, a certain coldness to my persona.

"With a following like his, I did not think…there were no signs." He replied somewhat disappointed with himself.

"Signs? Of course there were no signs. That's what makes a gift like his so effective. With one simple touch he can read any thought you've ever had, relive every moment you have ever witnessed. All with one simple touch. And unless you are aware of it, you will never know."

"You mean to tell me that crazy old bastard knows-" He shuddered out a loud vibrating groan. "Knows everything about me?" And he was upon his feet, pacing back and forth like a caged lion at the circus.

"Yes, and it's the very same way he knew about me. You witnessed, and help me kill Horace, and now Aro too has seen it." I summarized, allowing myself to relax in the knowledge the Volturi wasn't about to storm into my living room. There just wasn't enough seating.

After a good forty paces in front of the hearth, and stroking his chin one too many times. Percy finally removed himself from his internal deliberation and back into the reality of two immortals having a conversation about a self-proclaimed royal vampire. He pirouetted perfectly to face me; legs shoulder width apart and in a ready stance.

"What do we do?"

I frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what's the plan?" He clarified, hand in a fist and ready for a fight. It was at that moment I saw Percy in a new light, he seemed to be either incredibly naive or a few marbles short.

"There is no plan." I replied slowly, wondering if he had been listening at all to Horace's horror stories of the Volturi.

"You mean we...do nothing?" The disbelief in his tone was almost comical, had it not been for the fact he probably had ideas of a fight. One that I was not getting into.

"Precisely. We do nothing."

"B-but what about the best defense is a good offence. We can't just sit back and do nothing." He protested, banging his fist against the marble mantelpiece. I scowled as the stone creaked in response and soot falling from the chimney.

"You think we stand any chance against the Volturi?! Two normal vampires against the most gifted immortals in the world. One step into Volterra and you are dead, you make one move towards Aro and you are nothing more than a pile of ashes."

"I know others who will help." He said.

"Who? Two vampires who fled south, two vampires who probably want nothing more to do with you. You need to remember Percy, this isn't war anymore. You can't pick such pointless fights."

"It's not pointless. Every vampire is scared of the Volturi, but what right do they have to rule over the rest of us? Why should we fear them?" He gazed down almost manically at his own hands, and there was little doubt in my mind death ran through his. Perhaps the loss of his newborns at the hand of Maria along with the loss of stability had disturbed him. More than anything in that very moment I wished Edward was here, because I could not predict the process of his mind.

"The rules are there to protect us." I said softly, in the hopes a sympathetic approach would get through.

"Protect us? From who the humans? We do not need to be protected from such pitiful creatures. But if they knew the vampire race could flourish, we could be the dominant species."

He was stark raving mad. He had completely lost it.

I couldn't kill him that would entail a fight right in the middle of the suburban city. Plus a vampire with ideas of grandeur was probably a lot stronger than me. Once again I was resorting to using a practice of the Cullen's; I would try to reason with him.

"Percy, listen to me. Don't provoke them, it's been over ten years and they have no interest in you. Let it remain that way...please." I begged, rising from my arm chair slowly with palms upright in peace. His red eyes fixated on me, lingering on my hands before remaining locked on my own crimson irises.

"Don't you see Isabella, it's so simple. If I destroy the Volturi, then there will be no limit to the size or strength of the force I could create…Maria's army would be no match."

This fight he wanted was not against the likes of the vampire royal family, but Maria. He wanted revenge upon her, and in his warped and twisted mind killing the Volturi seemed like a good idea. An idea he deemed actually possible and one I wasn't quite sure I could understand or justify. Maybe to prove himself or to take down a force that could possibly hinder his progression against her.

But there was no amount of reasoning on my part that could deter the manic and decisive look that molded his chiseled face. He had become a victim of desired revenge. And for as long as I had known Percy he had always been a lover of conflict.

So without giving him a vocal response, simply nodded my head and gave him a small smile. To which he took great encouragement, taking my hands in his.

"You will see Isabella. I will prove it to everyone." He grinned, giving my fingers a squeeze. There was a lingering moment in which he looked so much younger, and I felt he was looking for praise from me.

"I know you will." I replied, giving his own hands a soft clasp in response.

He told me he had to leave right away, heading back to the south to start the so called plan. He told me he wouldn't hunt in the near vicinity, making me think his sanity had returned. But it was dashed on the way out as he told me.

"I will succeed."

He did not pick up the vagabonds coat on the way out. It seemed he had left his humanity behind.

The chances of him succeeding were almost impossible. But on the off chance he ever met the likes of Aro again; I was moving to another city, perhaps even another state. Nineteen thirty was tuning into a year I was happy to see the end of.

Bring forth the New Year.

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><p><em>Chapter seventeen, it's almost 1931 wonder who Bella will find on her new year outing. <em>

_Ciao_


	18. Chapter Seventeen: LaissezFaire

_Hope everyone has had a great start to the New Year, I can't believe it is already Jan 8__th__. And that means leaving the warmth and homeliness of rural Shropshire and back into the craziness of London life. Alas Uni is beckoning me back. Bad cooking, no money and attempting to appear relatively grown up in the eyes of others. Epic fail. _

_Thank you so much to everyone who is reading, alerting and reviewing. Did a little dance of elation when someone said they loved the story. I read other peoples incredible ff and it puts me in a self-loathing mood. So at the moment I'm reading Harry Potter fics. _

_I have no owner ship over the Twilight Saga, if I did all my University debts would be paid off and I would move somewhere sunny. _

Chapter Seventeen: Laissez-Faire

November 6th 1930

The seconds ticked by regularly and unwavering, the only sounds breaking the demanding silence. Behind each solid tick lay the hum and whirring of the mantle clocks tiny cogs and wheels. And as beautiful and ornate as the antique clock may have been, it still remained bloody annoying.

When you lived alone it was preferable to limit the number of time pieces to a minimum, enhanced hearing magnified the problem of consecutive ticking and it was sure to send one quite mad. For as I gazed at the clock with an ounce of loathing, there came a realisation that the morning was now upon me. It had been one entire week since he had departed from my house. And other than leaving to hunt nothing had been accomplished in that time, the only thing I had decided on was the fact I was moving to a new dwelling.

A processes that was not only long but incredibly tedious.

And as odd as Cleveland was; for the parklands were ridden with human remains, it was a place I had come to like. I was comfortable here. Relatively happy in my colonial style house with picket fence and forest green shutters.

But were an angry vampire to come knocking, I doubted a simple locked door would keep them out. I was no human; I couldn't simply hide in my house and peak through the curtains to watch them leave. If Percy didn't come to his senses and really did carry out his ideas of grandeur, then I wanted to put as much distance between this house and myself.

So with a decision firmly set upon, I grabbed the putrid vagabond's coat that had been slowly saturating in the hallway. I had been hoping perhaps he would return, but my patience had run out and the coat was beginning to smell rotten. Between two fingers and as far away from my body as possible, it was going to be burnt. It became apparent bodily fluids were not the only thing soaked into the trench coat, when it easily caught light amongst the tinder and wood in the hearth. Feeling particularly unclean from the day's hunt proceeded to strip down to my own undergarments before throwing the plain overdress into the fire. There was always something about burning inanimate objects that was highly amusing.

After stoking the fire once again and standing childishly poking with the iron rod for several minutes, I reluctantly pulled myself away and onto more pressing matters.

Two large brown leather traveling trunks were pulled out from under the Queen Anne bed and dropped haphazardly to the polished wooden floor. In one; half was designated for the large collection of clothing I had accumulated over the past number of years, the other half a safe place to store my most cherished books and small trinkets. Yet it was the other slightly smaller case; the pre-packed one, that held my most important belongings. My small fortune was bound tightly in brown paper packages tied with twine, all nestled between a hoard of papers and documents.

Each one allowing me to live a different life. There were state maps, city maps, topographic maps. Maps identifying American national parks and annual hunting seasons. I had collected information regarding city populations, density and state wealth distribution. Everything one needed to integrate themselves into society.

With little desire to stray too far away from the ideal weather provided by the great lakes; but far enough that tracking became increasingly difficult, there were numerous cities along the shore lines. And with approximately one hundred and twenty miles between us, the city of Toledo was a prime location for a quick, convenient move. The city had once been the hub of many railroad companies and centre for manufacturing industries, but economic circumstances had hit the area hard. When the population suffered from such problems the general ideology was '_laissez-faire,' _people kept to themselves and dealt with the difficulty alone. Help from the state was none existent; it was every man for himself. Making aliases in broken cities was a simple process, property was cheap and developers were keen to sell to anyone who could pay up front; no questions asked.

With a finial flourish of papers and executive clothing decision, both trunks were closed with a click of the locks. They stood side by side and ready for the journey ahead, merely waiting on my own slow progress. The pretty pastel pink dress I had selected for traveling was cast aside and instead something altogether much more conservative chosen. A lower hem line, a tighter waist, a high lace collar, sights that confirmed I was as old as my birth certificate and a gentleman's wife. All beautifully set with a string of pearls and an old garish ring salvaged from the bottom of my documents trunk.

I deemed myself ready to leave when the last bobby pin held up the final piece of my hair and the prude little hand I wore for such occasions fastened atop my head. Every window was locked, everything was tidy and the fire in the living room was put out. With a deep breath of air; saturated with the scent of lavender from sprigs in a vase, a familiar sense of foreboding restlessness invaded.

This whole process was tiresome. I was tired of moving from one town to another, tired of getting comfortable then having to move on. And if I were to be brutally honest with myself, I was lonely. Unlike the books I lost myself within and the films I went to see, I was not the heroine so depicted in the media. Because who in their right mind would want to read or see a film about a lonely depressed vampire, I doubted the ticket sales would be high.

So feeling increasingly sorry for myself picked up my two trunks, locked the door behind me and headed towards the city centre to hail a cab.

…..

We had agreed on a set price, one that would get my luggage and I to Toledo and make it worth the man's trouble. And as reliable with age as this elderly taxicab chauffer looked to be, I was not foolish enough to be scammed. Half the money at the start and the other half upon safe arrival at my destination, decreasing the chance of an unfortunate drop off. And a sudden end to the drivers already well lived life.

He did not appear to be offended, instead merely bobbed his balding grey head and squeezed my two luggage cases into the trunk of the dark green Pontiac. An automobile the man was clearly elated to own, seeing as the dark green paint work was immaculate and not a blemish to be seen. Inside the twenty eight model a dark brown leather upholstery covered the seats; the smell of chemical tans mixed with the odour of stale tobacco provided a great mask for the human in the driving seat.

There was some small talk; he questioned my reasons for moving to Toledo. I replied with a story about my husband opening a new business branch in the city, a venture that required moving. We spoke about the economic crisis; for it was a topic everyone spoke of, I told him my husband owned a shipping company. One than had lost a significant amount of profit over the last year and the move to Toledo was a chance to expand. He nodded mumbling something about the port and railroad links, before casually handing me a copy of The Plain Dealer; Cleveland's local newspaper.

"Tragic about those miners eh?" He gruffed deeply. One hand on the wheel the other opening a tin of chewing tobacco and stuffing a pinch into his right cheek. My gaze landed on the already crinkled paper, reading the bold headline: Millfield Mill Explosion.

"Yes quite tragic." I replied, picking up the broadsheet in one gloved hand and reading the news I was apparently ignorant to.

"Heard on the grape vine a couple of the company's big executives were killed in the blast." He murmured through the insistent chewing of dried leaves. "Inspecting safely equipment I heard." Head shaking in apparently disbelief.

"It is but a terrible irony."

"Indeed, makes you wonder what reason the good Lord has." My driver said passionately. I did not reply to his statement, instead hid behind my tinted glasses and pretended to be engrossed in an article. Yet I could feel this milky blue eyes watching me in the rear view mirror, and there lingered and uncomfortable silence. Only broken when he wound down his window and spat the wad of pulverised leaves to the road side, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of a cheap woollen jumper. And letting out an aggravated grumble about how vulgar the taste was.

It was while trying to avoid his gaze I came across the first sight of the city of Toledo, already the great shape of the National City Bank was making its mark as the tallest building on the skyline. Although construction was far from complete and had been significantly slowed by a drop in funding, it was by no means any less impressive. As the automobile rumbled its way closer to the centre, the great expanse of Lake Erie was visible to the right. Only disappearing as the open country made way for groupings of houses that became denser as the suburbs bloomed. And I could look in slight wonder as a new, unexplored city began to grow either side. We passed over the Maumee River and headed straight towards downtown.

I had instructed my driver if he were to take me into the heart of Toledo and find me a reputable estate realtor I would be much more generous when deciding upon my tip.

So after driving around the city for more than half an hour; subsequently running low on gasoline, we made a stop at a small gas station to refuel. And upon returning to the motor my driver suddenly knew exactly where to go, I had little doubt he had asked for directions. I did not comment, men and their pride.

"Nearly there Ma'am. Wright and Son will get you sorted. Best realtors in the city, or so I'm told." He smiled, exposing a row of yellowing and crooked teeth.

"Excellent." I replied, sitting back into the plump leather seating and enjoying the views of my new home.

It was still another twenty minutes before the taxicab came to a stop, merely two hundred yards from the bright windows and black awning of Wright and Sons Realtors. I stepped out with care; when the door was opened for me, adjusting my hat and patting down imaginary creases in my skirt fabric. I noted the sidewalk was clean from dirt and rubbish; this for some reason pleased me greatly.

"Well Ma'am were here…do you want me to wait for you in the motorcar?" He asked, pulling on his own flat cap and bending his back to get rid of the creaks of old age.

"Good heavens no." I said, feeling increasingly sorry for the elderly gentleman having to drive the hundred and twenty miles. Opening the button clasp on my purse began fishing around for loose money, and luckily found a ten dollar note.

"Here. Take this get yourself something to eat and something for the return journey. I'll meet you back here in around an hour." I bargained. The prospect of having something to eat seemed to cheer him up, for he bowed his cap and replied with an excitable.

"Yes Ma'am." He headed off down the street in search of a well-earned meal and I lost his brown woollen jumper and green checked cap in a crowd. A turn of the heel and a brisk walk to the end of Adams Street was the direction of my destination.

For a Thursday afternoon the streets were relatively busy, I was elated to find I was not the only well-dressed person roaming the streets and blended in quite well.

I watched as hansom cabs rolled past, accompanied by the brilliant sound of horse's hooves as the great beasts trotted by. Although slightly outdated in modern America, they seemed to outnumber the automobiles on the roads. Perhaps it was because they were much cheaper to run than a usually unreliable motorcar. Either way it was a more palatable odour than the fumes that bellowed from a carburettor. Its effect on the surrounds were evident as the cream stone buildings were relatively grime free and unlike other cities I had lived in there were no great oil stains along the road.

The front façade of the realtor office was limestone like countless others, two story with corner quoining from top to bottom. On the shops broad window the name of the business painted neatly in crimson white lined italics, along with the promise they were indeed Toledo's most reliable estate realtor. A blatant attempt at ballyhoo. But I hoped that even they would be swayed by the promise of an upfront payment and a good story.

So in good fashion I place on my most haughty aristocratic face pushed against the black wooden door and strolled in.

The sight inside was reflective of the impressive building outside, the floor covered by an oddly coloured dark mauve carpet. By the wood burning fire a large crimson Persian rug sat, enclosed either side by two bulky leather sofas. In the middle a low table filled with an assortment of the day's newspapers and a bouquet of seasonal flowers. However it was to my immediate right; sat behind a large imposing mahogany desk, a squat fat little man with an impossibly bushy handlebar moustache.

He looked up; over the half-moon spectacles, and gave me the once over. Placing down his mechanical pencil on a stack of papers and giving me a smile.

"Good afternoon Ma'am. What can I do for you?"

"Good afternoon Sir." I replied, moving to take the seat opposite the man and giving him my tightest smile. "I'm in the market for some property."

….

Wow this chapter took so long to write and actually required some historical research. My friend dared me to include the word 'ballyhoo', according the dictionary means: "A clamorous and vigorous attempt to win customers or advance any cause; blatant advertising or publicity."

Tip for the day, in the words of Ruth Etting: "Steer clear of frozen ponds, ooh-ooh, Peroxide blondes, ooh-ooh, Stocks and bonds, ooh-ooh, You'll get a pain, ruin your bankroll."


	19. Chapter Eighteen : Atrox

_Thought I would post this before starting my massive story alert revamp, anything over twelve month update is getting deleted. It's like detoxing the mind. Thanks again to those who reviewed, alerted, favoured or took any time to read this. Makes it all worthwhile!_

_So from London with love, I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga. Because I don't have the patience to write a saga. _

Chapter Eighteen : Atrox

November 6th 1930

It had not been quite what I had been expecting, but I suppose in a way it was my own fault. I did specify a pre-furnish, detached house with relative privacy, yet in the small black and white photograph the house was clad in bright white shingles with a beautifully manicured garden. When I got my first sighting of the house from the taxicab, the shingles were yellowing and most were missing. The three acre garden that surrounded the large two story Victorian style home was overgrown and unruly.

Flower beds that once grew along the foundations of the house in neat little beds, were now non-existent. Over flowing with more species of weeds than I could possibly name, great tendrils of ivy grew up the west side of the house covering up most of the windows. The grass looked more like that found on an African savannah and I half expected there to be some great beast living amongst it. The top of a stone bird bath was just visible above the tall grass, filled to the brim with scum ridden water with its own algal bloom. No wonder there was not a bird in sight.

The taxicab could not take me to the top of the drive, for one side of the wrought iron gate had rusted solid to its hinges. Instead he unloaded my luggage from the trunk and kindly offered to take it up to the porch, all the while keeping his own opinions about the property to himself. It was much appreciated. After paying the fare and giving the old man a generous tip, we parted ways and he left me with the wreck that was my new home.

Along with the deeds to the house; under my _husband's_ name, I was given a large brass key with hopped end conveniently threaded on a thick piece of twine. Long enough that I could wear the thing around my neck, hidden between the fabric of my corset and overdress. I wondered if the previous owner had a habit of losing the key, or perhaps they wanted to keep it safe. Either way it was brilliantly efficient for hunting, far better than a flimsy pocket.

The porch itself looked to be in relatively good condition, simply needing a lick of paint and removal of the weeds that had grown through the wooden planks and spindles. White wash paint from the door had cracked and flaked away, creating pile of chippings on the deck. The worst around the lock where the key had missed time and time again, an original lion head knocker swung dangerously on its one remaining screw.

I was beginning at realise the previous owner; who I was told had passed away, had truly died some time ago.

With a slight jerk of the key and firm twist to the right the lock clicked, it took only a slight nudge from me to open the sticky door. I was in.

And what a sight it was to behold. Other than a thick layer of dust that seemed to cover everything, the interior of the house was immaculate. It was also very clear the owner before had taken their inspiration from a bygone era; the wallpaper was thickly pattered with flowers, birds and other fauna. There were dark drapes made of velvet and intricate lace work, keeping out the harmful sunlight to protect the furniture. Taxidermist animals were scattered through every room, rare birds and small mammals in dusty glass boxes. A large case of exotic butterflies hung above the large marble fireplace, next to copious numbers of photographs in gold gilded frames. Even the furniture was large and made of extremely dark woods, upholstered in velvets and imported fabrics. Even through the years of dust and cobwebs it was still an incredible sight to behold. I became somewhat excited to explore the rest of this property, one that seemed to be frozen in time.

The trunks were pulled inside from the porch and left standing by an elaborate ivory hat stand with matching carved umbrella rack. From the hall there were two rooms, the parlour to the right and a reception room to the left. The grand stair case stood directly from the front door, in all its dark and regal glory. A strip of crimson carpet runner down the centre of the flight, fixed in place with lion headed stair rods. I guessed the kitchen and dining area to be at the back of the house; along with a sun room I had been promised.

But my desire solely remained to discovering what the second story had to offer, so in true exploration spirit headed onwards. Hoping there were no literal skeletons in the closet or worse large spiders. Mr Wright had said the house had four decently sized bedrooms along with a spacious attic, but the fat little man had also said the house was in excellent condition. He was just bloody lucky I loved the interior; otherwise Wright and Son would be missing a Wright.

Alas he would live to see another day for the bedrooms were as beautiful as the rest of the house, high ceilings, large and plenty of storage. Most of the armoires still contained reminisce of clothing, most now reduced to scraps where the moth caterpillars had eaten away. But some items in the stack of draws had survived; they simply needed a good wash.

It was while I was elbow deep in an old linen chest rummaging through some expensive looking garments, did I come across the first signal I was not the only creature living in this house. The sound of scratching and scurrying feet on the floor above verberated through me, I could deal with angry vampires, big scary animals but I could not stand vermin. It was enough to make my cold skin crawl, first light tomorrow I was buying traps and poison.

….

November 19th 1930

It had taken nearly two weeks of hard graft; working night and day, but the house and grounds were looking magnificent. I could not take all the credit however; home maintenance wasn't exactly my forte. But the humans who had come to fix the exterior, the painters, gardeners and other such people had done a wonderful job. I myself had taken on the job of fixing the inside, dusting everything, washing any fabric that could be pulled down. Even stringing up the rugs on an abandoned washing line and beating the dust out of them with a wicker carpet beater I found in the cellar.

There was something about the atmosphere of the house that felt extremely homely, I was force to consider that perhaps I had once lived surrounded by a similar style. A typically Victorian fashion and I seemed to fit the period quite well. Whoever had called this place home before certainly wanted to bring a little piece of England to America, even the trees lining the drive and flowers were imported English varieties.

But even with the house in a near complete state there still remained one issue that wasn't happening quite a quickly as I would have liked: the removal of my vermin problem. I had a specialist in to access the problem, he merely stated; through puffs of a large cigar, if poison and traps didn't work I should consider getting a cat.

A cat.

It was preposterous and quite frankly awful idea, but when the traps and poison failed. And the vermin continued to scurry and nibble through the electrical wiring; the idea of getting a cat seemed like a good one. So I became the rather reluctant owner of a feline, adopted from Toledo's rehoming centre. From the minuet I walked into the woman's house: and stopped breathing due to the stench of cat urine, every animal was upon its hackles hissing and spitting. Cats were not overly fond of vampires.

I didn't have a choice or luxury in picking my new pet, oh good heavens no. But I was forced into selecting the only cat that didn't run a mile, a slightly mangy black feline with yellow eyes. The one cat that looked at me like I was beneath it. It mocked me from the moment I got it home but as long as it killed the rats and mice, it could do as it pleased.

Thankfully it did put an end the problem, but then decided to pile up the dead carcasses in a neat little heap at the back door. And when it became quite clear he had no intentions of eating the vermin, I had to dispose of them myself. At first I had hoped a neighbour would mistake him for a stray and take him in, alas after two weeks he had picked a designated chair and made himself quite at home. It was beginning to look like this feline was going to remain a permanent fixture; I began to question just how long a domestic cat lived for.

And apparently it was a lot longer than the man currently on the receiving end of my teeth, illegal poaching in a national park never was a bright idea. And to do it at twilight was even more foolish, everybody knows that's when the predators come out to feed.

Even with his semi-automatic rifle he was no match for me and it had been a while since I had encountered much resistance for a meal. Shooting me twice in the torso, then attempting to make a run for it. I allowed him the satisfaction of feeling triumphant, he managed to run back to his pickup truck parked along the dirt road. Throwing the gun into the back and fishing his pockets for keys, the leisurely manner in which he did it was sickening. Killing an apparent human didn't bother him in the slightest and with his back to the tree line I struck.

His body hit the driver's door with a bang, the sound of crushing bones penetrated the air and the muscular poacher let out an almighty scream of pain before calling me a string of offensive words. My fingers ran their way through his dark hair grabbing tightly onto the roots and yanking his head backwards.

"Awww." I cooed into his ear. "That's not very nice. Shooting a lady then running away."

"Y-you're a fucking monster!" He spat between wheezing breaths, I had probably shattered a couple of his ribs. Unhappy with his answer I pulled back harder on his neck, the joint now straining under the force. His jugular artery was enlarged and now clearly visible pulsating through his skin. My gums seemed to ache in desire to plunge into the soft skin and savagely tear open his neck to feed. Liquid venom pooled like saliva in my mouth and any remaining bouts of humanity vanished when the first taste of blood touched my tongue. The poacher howled and clawed in a pointless attempt to remove my hungry mouth from his neck. But with each long and drawn out suck, his fight began to diminish. Hands began to drop and his whole body sagged against the metal work of the truck, until finally his heart came to a shuddering halt.

I left his body in a shallow ditch, the wolves would no doubt enjoy a good meal.

A waxing gibbous moon highlighted the paleness of my skin and the flecks of blood that had spurted on the once crisp shirt. It had started out as an innocent run through the forest, but once the smell of his blood had invaded my senses appetite had ruled. Licking the remnants from my lips and realising my hunger was not satisfied turned towards civilisation for my next fix. Neglecting to feed regularly had this type of effect, an insatiable drive to satisfy that raging fire. One that consumed every emotion and every ounce of reason.

I had only brief moment of sanity to decide to head towards the red light district, before hunger pushed me into a run. The greenery merged into a one continuous dark mass, as forest and a heavy falling sleet raced past. So it was merely minutes before buildings came into view, backstreet alleys and roof tops replaced the cover of the trees. It was while prowling along the flat roofs of the run down docklands, that I did spy a new hunting prospect.

Yet another man. Seems I took preference to the opposite sex.

His hair was as dark as ebony and slick back with a right hand parted quiff. A long woollen coat covered most of his body, allowing only a peak of pin striped trousers and buffed leather brogues. In his left gloved hand a walking cane, most probably made of a hard wood. A typically middle class man roaming alone through the less than idyllic and notorious streets, streets where whorehouses were commonplace.

I watched him from my spot upon the roof; he looked back behind his shoulder and increased the grip on his cane. Then looked back once again before making a decision to cross onto my side, with it came the scent of soap, alcohol and transfer of women's perfume. At merely two hundred yards I prepared to drop into the side passage and discreetly grab him from the streets.

But at a mere one hundred yards the man vanished from the sidewalk, seemingly pulled into another alleyway. An indignant growl burst forth from my chest and in one mighty leap I landed silently on the roof lip. Narrowing my eyes into the darkness to reclaim my meal; when I realised it was a vampire, slowly sucking sway the man's life. To engrossed in blood lust to realise I was standing above the scene, I would let the vampire finish their meal. After all we didn't want a new-born running amok in the city.

Yet I was up for a fight, this was my territory and I held a permanent residency. Giving me rights over the area and food stocks. The body was dumped on the ground with little care, I guessed correctly the vampire was male; a large over coat made it difficult to see. I prepared once again to drop into the passage and confront the male, when his body tensed and swiftly turned to face me. And all words became stuck in my throat, as I stared disbelievingly into a pair of red eyes. Which stared straight back with a looked of horror.

"Edward?" I whispered.

….

_And finally Edward makes a return in all his bad ass glory. Yay! It's kind of sad I missed him from my own story. _

_Much love and gratitude. _


	20. Chapter Nineteen: Te amo

_Has it already been two weeks? Damn. I did originally have half of this written last week, but I didn't like it so decided to start again. _

_Thanks to all those who reviewed, alerted or put the story under your favourites. I'm trying really, really hard to update quickly, but I'm such a slow writer and get easily distracted by silly things like watching ghost hunters and doing uni work. _

_From the tiny space that is my Uni room, it is clear to see I don't own the Twilight Saga._

Chapter Nineteen: Te amo

"Isabella?" He whispered quietly.

The flickering lamps along the street highlighted the left side of his face and his appearance became almost ghostly. He had not changed. That tall lean figure stood affronted in the ally, his perfectly sharp features masked into one of incredulity. It seemed even the bitter winter wind could not touch his form, merely dancing through his messy bronze hair.

It seemed very little had changed in his image.

Save the raging red iris that were looking straight at me.

And although their very colour sent an uncomfortable fear across the entirety of my skin, I was not one to judge. As my own eyes blazed the same rich colour of blood, and bore back into his with the same intensity. It looked as though life had lead us both astray, and then joined us back together in such a cruel clever way.

Years seemed to pass and yet I knew them to be merely moments. The sleet had now turned into heavy snow fall, but still it would not stick due to the sodden roads. My own vision tainted by the small flakes that clung to my lashes in their avid attempt to avoid the ground. But to blink and they were gone, and yet Edward never wavered. His gaze never moved from my own, locked in a game of turmoil. Where each passing second was increasingly more painful, until it became hard to look upon his form without exhaling a shuddering breath. And if my heart were to still beat I was sure it would be hammering.

I couldn't do this.

I couldn't face him.

And as a motorcar drove past the alleyway and Edward's attention was taken for a second, I took my chance. Turning swiftly and bolting back across the building roofs, taking each a-frame with an immortals grace and speed. I would hold that emotion deep within my chest until I was in the confines of my own home.

But through the torrent of snow fall that blustered and blew a gale, the sound of a quickening pace rang across the adjacent buildings. And from the corner of my vision I identified a figure moving at unmatchable speed along the roof tops, until they met my own pace and began to slow. I didn't want to turn my head, because that would mean confirming the identity of my stalker.

"Always running aren't you Isabella?" He yelled across the space between us, before letting out a low and hollow chuckle. I didn't respond. Instead pushed even harder into my run, legs tightening as each foot hit the surface below. Although I would never tire of incessant running, the thundering emotion within my chest began drumming louder.

"Stop running." He called out from the darkness. I didn't see him move until he hit the ground directly in front of me; the jump across the road posed no problem for him. But then again agility had always been a skill of his. In blind panic my muscles locked and heels dug deep into the asphalt shingles, pulling several up along the timber frame. My body dipped into a crouch, hands holding onto the roof to keep myself steady and upright.

We were at opposite ends of the same building. Merely twenty yards apart upon the shabby roof of one of Toledo's many theatres and still within the realm of the red light district. From within the building the deep base of sultry jazz vibrated its way through the roof; the song had once been a favourite of mine, but it was tainted now. I let my attention wander in every direction in an avid attempt to avoid the situation at hand, gazing out across the city then studying the roof top. All the while keeping him in my peripheral vision, I could see him watching me.

"I can't believe you're here." He started. Kicking a small clump of snow from his cheap shoes, and brushing the arms of the woollen trench coat. "Here in Toledo."

When I still refused to respond to his verbal prompts, he shook his head and allowed out an aggravated breath. "Isabella would you please look at me."

"Fine." I growled out over him, clenching my fists down at my sides and gripping fabric between my fingers. "You want to chat, answer me this. Why are you here? And what right do you have to interfere with my life?" Mustering up the courage to look him straight in the eye and not waver. Announcing it with enough conviction to mask the emotional turmoil that festered inside, that was beginning to evolve into anger.

His face seemed to visibly drop and the fleeting emotion he had once held disappeared, only to be replaced with sad forebodings. "I'm sorry." He whispered. But it was those words that acted as a catalysis to my emotions, and they overflowed and burst out.

"Sorry?" I shrieked in disbelief. "Well if you're so sorry then leave me be?" My right hand waved erratically towards a random destination, in the hopes he would go.

"Leave?" He stated in disbelief, tasting the word like it was completely foreign to him. A moment lingered before his whole image seemed to darken and in turn he clenched his fists with bone white knuckles. "Why the hell would I leave?" The question burned against the wind with ice cold rage, and I could not help but take a slight step back along the a-frame.

"Eight years, three months and twenty one days." Edward continued, chuckled almost manically while plunging his fists into his coat pockets and shifting his weight to the right foot. "I've been looking for you for eight years." He announced.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Even the harsh bitter gale blowing across the chimneys and through the trees could not penetrate it. Not even the jazz vibrating through the roof shingles or the motorcars and carts thundering along the cobbled streets could stop the disbelief. Eight years was long time. Even for the likes of an immortal, who had to live through both the spoils of day and night. It was a considerable period of time in which significant changes could take place, like formations and disintegration of covens or even changes in diet. But to spend eight years with one purpose would warranted an extreme about of patience and ambition.

"Why?" I questioned, grabbing the hemming of my shirt even tighter between both fists. "What could you possibly want with me?"

"I-I just want to talk-" He sighed, before looking down to the road side and watching as hoards of people departed from the theatre as the last show finished. "Can we talk away from here?"

I observed the humans as they ambled from the theatre and into the snow storm, females letting out shrieks as the bitter wind caught them by surprise and grabbing the arm of their male counterparts. They walked briskly towards motorcars hanging on dearly to hats and expensive looking shawls. What I would give to have such an easy carefree existence, where finding a meal didn't break the law and unrequited love didn't steal said meal.

"Isabella…please-"

"Fine." I bit out. "Do you have a place in mind?"

He nodded before replying with a verbal response. "Yes, it's just north of the docklands."

"I'll follow your lead then." I watched him contemplate for the briefest of moments, while he regarded me intently for any sign of deception. By passive face must have convinced him my intentions were truthful, for he turned swiftly and leapt onto the next building. Knowing it was pointless trying to run from someone who had a physical advantage over me, I too jumped the gap and followed his footfalls.

….

Since moving to Toledo I had ventured around the city to find good hunting spots and other such necessities, but I had never been to this area. From the look of its decrepit buildings and lack of human population, doubted I ever would. Since the larger and more accessible port had been build down river over twenty years ago, the older docklands had been abandoned and deteriorated. Any heavy machinery of value had been moved and the worthless parts left behind had begun to rust.

The buildings had been boarded up with wrought iron bars, probably to stop Toledo's homeless population from inhabiting them. Then again it was hardly an ideal place to live during the winter, the exposure to the winds coming off the lakes plummeted the temperatures to well below freezing. It may have not been fitting for a human but it was perfect for a vampire. I could see why he had chosen the location.

I followed obediently as we walked through the maze of warehouses and office buildings, keeping at least ten yards between us at all times. We didn't talk or exchange any pleasantries, merely walked in strict silence. I made sure to keep my own footsteps at a different rhythm from his to relieve any uncomfortable pauses, all the while making a mental list of chores to do upon arriving back home.

"We're almost there." Edward said quietly.

"Alright." I acknowledged.

It was another minute or so; at a relaxed human pace, that he finally stopped outside the old Foreman's office. I walked to his left hand side, making sure there remained a significant space between us and out of arms reach. The building was architecturally much nicer looking than the others, a perfect dwelling for the moneyed gentleman in charge. Although it was a little rough around the edges now, as all the windows were boarded and half the drainage pipes were missing.

"The only way in is through the roof." He stated, gesturing upwards with one finger and giving me a small smile. I bobbed my head in response, but kept my eyes trained on the lip of the roof and the metal guttering that was hanging awkwardly. Reminding myself over and over this wasn't like old times, and we had no relationship. Ignoring any feelings that emanated from my mantra, decided ladies first still applied to the situation and made my own way upwards. Edward following only seconds behind.

After climbing through the roof hatch and dropping onto the landing, I followed Edward into the room right of the main staircase. And found surprisingly it was furnished, a large cherry wood desk almost central to the room surrounded by an array of upholstered chairs. The dark green wallpaper had begun to peel around the windows but had remained mostly intact, along the adjacent wall a deep open fire was stoked and ready for burning. It was like a small home in the middle of nowhere, this was Edward's home.

I recognised his favourite books on the old case, along with spare shirts and clothing items folded on the empty shelves. There was a pile of records and sheet music on the desk but he neither owned a phonograph or piano.

I stood awkwardly in the door frame watching him take a box of matches from the mantle; strike up one, before lighting each of the oil lamps hung on the walls and two on the desk.

"You can take a seat." He said, throwing the burn out match into the hearth.

"I'd rather stand." I acknowledged stiffly, moving into the room and leaning against the wall. Somewhat annoyed that the chair rail was sticking into my back, but too stubborn to move into a better position.

"Alright." Edward replied, allowing his lips to twitch into a half smile before taking a seat opposite me. "You look well." He began.

"Cut the crap." I growled. "You wanted to talk, so talk."

"Straight to the point as always." He muttered, sitting upright and running and hand through his hair. "So I'll return the sentiments. Why did you leave?"

"You and I both know I didn't belong there." I resorted snidely.

"That's not true." He replied sternly.

"I was getting restless." It was a low blow, one that hid the real reason I had made a hasty retreat. "And I wasn't about to stay somewhere I was unhappy." It was indeed the final nail in the coffin.

"That's bullshit!" He yelled

"How would you know? It's not like you can read my mind." I spat. Maybe if I pushed him enough he'd leave, then I could get on with my existence alone. His hands formed into tight fists at his side, the muscle in his jaw clenching in anger. I was taking sadistic pleasure in making him feel just as unhappy as me.

"I'll let myself out." I said, pushing off from the wall and heading back down the hallway. My hands gripped onto the side of the hatch and I began to pull myself onto the flat roof. I was half way through when a hand grabbed my ankle and forcefully pulled me back down. My legs didn't touch the ground as Edward's hands where curled around my upper arms holding me up.

"You think you can just leave again, after all this time. After all you put me through." He stated bitterly, increasing the grip on my arms.

"Let me go Edward." I fought against the grip on my arms, kicking my legs against his shins. "I never asked you to look for me."

"No-no you didn't, but you did do something much worse." He said, loosening his grip and letting me fall back onto my own feet. I quickly pushed away from him, dipping into a slight predatory crouch.

"Oh really and what terrible deed did I do?"

"You made me fall in love with you, and then you left."

….

_A/N: So it's 5:34am. I'm happily updating, while making s'mores using toaster bags with my flat mates._

_Rock on. _


	21. Chapter Twenty: Te Amo

_Holy crap I'm on chapter twenty and it's taken this long for the main characters to find each other again. It's a miracle you guys are still hanging in there and reading, had the most reviews for the last chapter which made me very happy. Unfortunately this would have been out quicker had it not been for someone in the flat above getting done for downloading illegal movies. So the university cut the buildings internet until he paid the fine. Let's just say he not the most popular person right now. _

_Oh and I'm glad you liked the cat, I'm still trying to think of a name for him. I think he may pop up in the next chapter._

_Thanks to all those who reviewed, alerted or put the story under your favourites. It brings me back from the corner of woe that is student life and nine pence noodles. _

_So it's due to the fact I don't own the Twilight Saga that nine pence noodles are now my staple diet. _

Chapter Twenty: Te Amo

My legs felt weak. The very notion was physically impossible and yet my legs suddenly could no longer hold up my own weight. And with a bump I landed on my behind, limbs bent awkwardly at each side. Both my hands had made perfect imprints into the dust on the floor boards and had I not been having a small break down, the dirt would have bothered me tremendously. From the tensing of my facial muscles I could only guess my face was masked into something that resembled incredulity.

Edward hadn't moved. Just stood; motionless, perhaps two strides from me without word or breath. I could feel his penetrating gaze scolding itself against my features, searching for any clue as to a response.

But just how did one respond to that?

"W-what? But…..I don't." I began. Growing frustrated the words refused to order themselves or form coherently, so uttered an unladylike. "Shit." And mentally congratulated myself on a well-constructed sentence, I supposed getting a point across had never been artfully done in my case.

"That's why I've been looking for you." He said quietly. "I just wanted to know why you left and-and I wanted to see you."

I could feel an onslaught of emotion rise up from the depths of my chest, and with it a bout of unshedable venom. To hear such affectionate words after such a long time was enough to bring me to tears. "That's not fair." I mumbled, rubbing my eyes with loose fists in an attempt dispel the blurriness. It wasn't fair for him to say such kind things to me, after living alone for almost a decade. It wasn't fair that he was suddenly interrupting my perfectly lonely life and making me feel emotions I had tried so hard to burry.

"It's not fair." I yelled, banging my hands against the floor boards like a spoilt child. "Why now? Why didn't you say something back then?" Edward let out a ragged breathe in return. Leant his back flat against the wall and slid down, until he sat legs bend only a yard away from me.

"I wanted to for so long. But each and every time I came even close….I couldn't say anything. We had such a close relationship, I got scared that if you didn't feel the same way…we wouldn't be as close." He smiled lightly, but it was more a smile of nostalgia than that of present happiness. "I thought perhaps just being your friend meant we could stay together, but trying to ignore it hurt too much. So I planned to tell you. I intended to in the very moments before you left."

My palms pressed firmly against my eyes, and tried their hardest to supress the wail that wanted out. But my lip betray me and quivered along with my chest, as they fought to express the sadness his words bought upon me. Had this all been a misunderstanding? He had told me he didn't want to be friends, was that because he wanting something else? This lonely pathetic existence had been due to a misunderstanding. The very notion revelation sent my breathing into shallow succession.

"Isabella are you crying?" He asked softly.

"N-no." I sobbed. Bowing my head and allowing a curtain of thick hair to obscure his view of my face. It had been a long time since I had cried, much preferring to keep my emotions to myself and hidden from those who may perceive it as a weakness.

"Such a terrible liar." He smiled, shaking his head. "So now you've heard my tragic tale of woe."

We had felt the same way at the same time, but because of his inability to tell me and my own irrational stupidity we'd both ended up alone. I'd walked away from the only place I ever felt safe, given in to my instincts and become a killer again. If Edward had never come to find me, I would have continued living alone and ignorant to everything. And probably bought another cat.

"Isabella I understand if you don't reciprocate, but please don't leave me alone. I can't continue to live by myself anymore." He pleaded sadly.

"I'm so sorry." I whispered from my lowly position on the dust ridden bare boards.

"I tried so hard to be your friend in the hopes we could stay close, because I never thought you would ever feel that way about me. But then you said you didn't want that… so I panicked and I ran." Pitifully finishing my own story, yet dared not look up from my tensely clasped hands resting in my lap.

"I'm sorry it was not my intention to make you lonely. I just though…I thought if I left everything behind I could protect myself and you would all be so much better off without me." As a moment of quiet passed between us; only broken as he shifted position against the wall, I thought of all the things I should of said. Things that would have prevented a decade of loneliness for both of us, conversations that would have changed everything. But when it came down to the mark, they all lead to the same thing.

"I do love you Edward, I always have." I finished.

His hands moved lightning fast, curling their way around my arms and pulling me into an embrace. Although he remained sitting against the wall, I was now sat firmly in his lap. My arms naturally moving to snake around his neck and pulling us impossibly closer together

"You do?" He murmured into my shoulder.

"Yes I do."

"Then promise you won't leave me."

"I promise."

….

The wind continued to blow a gale outside, blasting lashings of freezing snow against the façade of the office building. It was the only sound that penetrated through the comfortable silence we had lapsed into, as the minutes pass my patience started to become restless and thoughts began to wonder. When I finally came to a well deduced conclusion, one that could not be ignored.

"I'm not staying here." I huffed, aimlessly playing with the collar of the rather unattractive coat he wore.

"What do you mean?" He asked, giving me a slightly adorable quizzical look with a raised brow. With a sweeping hand, I gestured to the shabby building around us. Having been situated on the upstairs landing, I was able to spy various other rooms on both floors. It seemed Edward kept to one room and one room alone, as none of the others seemed to be in use. They were derelict looking and void of any furnishings, the ideal place for vermin and not to mention numerous species of spiders.

"You don't have any sentimental attachment to this place, do you?" I questioned.

"No, not at all." He replied, playing idly with a strand of my long damp hair and in no clear hurry to move. And while I was content remaining sat together, the notion would have been much preferred within the clean confines of my own home.

"Good. Can we go now?" I smiled, tugging the hair free from his grasp and pushing onto my feet in one fluid motion.

"Go where?"

"To my house." I exasperated. "You don't honestly think I live on the streets." The floorboards creaked loudly as I crouched slightly too where he still sat, wrapped my hand around his own and tried to pull him up.

"Not at all you're far too high maintenance for such a life." He chuckled; holding tighter to my hand and in one graceful move was back to his feet. We continued back into the small box room that was currently acting as his makeshift home, I took an awkward; but eagle eyed, seat upon the desk. Watching Edward pack his minimal belongings into a leather case, in which appeared from under one of the large sofas.

From my perch I watched in faint amusement as he diligently packed his beloved records, before hastily and without care threw articles of clothing in. With a roll of the eye, I took to the floor and grabbed the white shirt he was currently brandishing.

"Here let me." I smiled, beginning to neatly fold the items and pack them with a little more due care an attention.

"So may I ask how you came to own a house?" Edward asked, halfway through sorting a pile of documents and sheet music that had accumulated in the desk draws.

"A gift for speculating on the stock market, bought low, sold high and made myself some money." I replied. "Lost a bit last September when prices dropped, so pulled out to regroup and let the market recover. Of course it never did."

"I never thought of you as a speculator." He smirked.

"Well think again." I stated audaciously. Taking the hand of papers from him and placing them on top of the pile, as not to crease and tear. Finishing by clicking down the trunks brass clips and fastening the leather buckles. "Everything is so much easier when you have money. I can buy property and live how I desire without questions being asked." He nodded in agreement with the truthful fact that humans were easily influenced; it was probably the reason our kind and survived so long undetected.

Edward took the case from my hands, lifting the bulky weight effortlessly before grabbing a nicer looking coat from the stand. "Here take this." He said, passing it to me. And although I had no need for such a thing at the current time, I took it no questions asked. Just happy enough he had given it to me.

"Thank you."

We made our way back onto the roof with ease, and straight into the snow gale that had now begun to stick to the ground. The only sights visible though the white blizzard came from the blinking lights of the navigation buoys across the lake.

With one step forward we both plunged down the two stories and hit the asphalt, an inaudible sound due to the blanket of white covering everything. And suddenly the coat protecting me from the freezing precipitation was a welcome addition, even if it was far too big for my smaller frame.

"Onwards." I muttered, turning towards the south and starting to trek back towards home. Deciding upon a human pace until I reached the safety and cover of the trees.

"How far is it?" Edward asked quietly from my side, his footsteps tapped in perfect rhythm with my own as we walked at the same pace.

"About three miles from here, in the old suburbs." I replied, rolling up the sleeves on the coat and allowing my hands exposure to the air. And no sooner had my right hand dropped to my side I found it intertwined within Edward's, and the space between us impossibly smaller.

"Can't say I've ever seem that part of the city." He mused. "In fact I haven't seen much of Toledo."

"How long have you been here?" I asked, sidestepping a pile of rusting equipment along the dockside.

"About two months." He said. "I don't stay in the same place for very long; more ground can be covered that way. After all I've never been the most skilful at tracking."

"Well I think you did good." I resorted. Moving closer to him and intertwining our arms together, in the hope physical contact would help reinforce my beliefs.

"You do?" He whispered, grip tightening on my hand and forcing the dips in our palms together.

"Well you managed to fine me didn't you? And I don't mean to be boastful but I'm pretty good at hiding, not to mention the small fact that I could have been anywhere."

"Hmm not anywhere."

"Pardon?"

"Not anywhere." He repeated again. "For example I know how much you detest boats; the idea of being stuck in a limited space with humans makes you uncomfortable. So you were most likely still on the content. I know how much you love the different seasons and you had no desire to live in a place where weather dictated the amount of time you could shop. But then again you always said you didn't understand how the Denali's could live in such a cold place, that amount of snow was just annoying. So the southern states and too far north of the boarder was probably out of the question. And while we lived in Wisconsin you said you liked looking out across the lakes, so great expanses of water were a must." There was a pause and had I not been close to tears once again, was sure that I should have been embarrassed about just how much of I tendency I had to moan.

"You idiot." I sniffed, the sound muffled as I hid my face against the arm of his coat.

"But no matter how long it took, I would have kept searching. Because I love you and I was determine to tell you that."

….

_This is the chapter I was really dreading, I'm no romance writer and I will be the first to admit that. So thought of what any normal girl would do in this situation, minus the vampire bit of course. Well I hope you enjoy my best efforts. _


	22. Chapter Twenty One: Domesticat

_I'm so delighted people are still reading and giving me such great feedback, it really does make my day/week. I can't believe I've reached 50,000 words, that seems crazy. No rambling, just a big thank you._

_And not forgetting the fact I don't own any rights to the Twilight Saga. _

Chapter Twenty One: Domesticat

December 13th 1930

Strings of brightly coloured lights were suspended from building to building, throughout the entire length of the city centre. The ropes of glass bulbs swung precariously in the wind, followed by the pervading sound of sharp clinks as they knocked each other. But it was only when the sun fell into the horizon that their colourful existence could truly be admired, glowing brightly against the darkness of the night.

Shop bay windows were crammed full of garish decorative items, all for the benefit of those brave enough to adventure out into the foot of snow that had fallen. It seemed the festive season had arrived once again. And although I may have not been the most religious of folk, at least this year I was not alone. That thought was enough to keep the smile upon my face, and hatred for the little chubby Père Noël figurines to a minimum. Because they truly were disturbing. While its macabre round face sent many a child running to the other side of the road, we did not once stray from the freshly shovelled sidewalk.

Instead perfecting a brilliantly human pace, arms linked and each step deliberately calculated as to avoid any icy patches. With their own eyes downcast and large woollen garments obscuring any view, no one paid us any heed. Not one member of the human public saw the odd tinge to our eyes, or the added force behind the supposed lover's link. For this was not an average stroll through town, it was a test of endurance. To deliberate weather it were even possible to coexist amongst the humans, having mutually decided to change diet once again. With the intent to seek Carlisle out at a later date, when our control was better, eyes were golden and we were no longer a burden to him.

Edward told me Carlisle and Esme had married; it was a given, but a nice surprise to hear none the less. She was the natural matriarchal figure that seemed to match his personality perfectly. Edward had also said she had wished to meet me, having heard me as I tended her during the change and was saddened to hear of my departure. Her kind words spurred a strange kind of happiness into me, and it was nice to think someone had said such things. I guessed my ego must have inflated greatly over the past month. Of course then there was the message from Tanya. Who said upon my arrival back, I would be greeted with a strike to the face courtesy of her. Having failed to contact her in nearly nine years.

But even with Tanya's threat hanging above my head, for the first time in many years I could openly; and honestly, say I was happy. And maybe I would write her before meeting face to face.

Noticing the marker that sat situated on the boarder for downtown and the suburb district, I relaxed my vicelike grip on Edward's arm. But it was not until we were safely into the depths of Pearson Park, did I allow myself the pleasure to breathe. Other than the scent of freshwater, evergreen pines and distant motorcar fumes, it was currently a human free area.

"I think were alright." I muttered, dusting off the powdering of snow that clung to my long coat.

"Well seeing as everyone we came across is still alive; I think we can deem it a success." He replied, throwing a half smile in my direction. "Plus if I hear one more Christmas related thought, I may go senile."

"Aww don't be a Scrooge." I tattled, pulling his arm towards the designated path and out of the foot of snow. "Christmas is supposed to be merry, where's your spirit?" His hand took mine as he kindly helped me down the steep embankment.

"I am merry." He stated calmly. "I've got you with me don't I?"

I bit my lip to fight a bashful smile that was always bought on by him, and his words that made my cold heart melt. It were times like these I came to realise just how in love with him I was, and acknowledging that kind of feeling made everything a little brighter.

"Yeah you got me." I affirmed.

"So this means you love me more than the cat right?" He said after a moment of silence.

"Oh I don't know." I remarked innocently, dancing away from him and towards the direction of home. "The cats pretty cute."

A shriek of laughter left my lips as he let out a playful growl, and slowly stalked towards me. "Cute?" Edward asked disbelievingly, one of his brows cocked upwards. Then in a carefully calculated strike his arms wrapped around my waist, and I was pulled against his chest.

"I think you've broken my heart love." He whispered hoarsely against my ear.

"Sorry." I smiled, pressing my lips against his. "But I don't think you have anything to worry about, I'm not exactly the cat's most favoured person."

"Good to know. I don't want to share you with anyone, especially not that mangy animal." He said, moving closer until our lips were touching once again. Compulsively my arms circled his neck, pushing my weight forward until I rose upon my tiptoes. Effectively closing the troublesome gap between our heights, as the kiss began to linger.

Not even the beauty of the current surroundings; or the snow that was currently melting white rings on the leather of my boots, could pull me away from this moment. I was so unbelievably content that the very thought of my impending immortality suddenly began to look quite agreeable, but only as long as the future included him. And I had no intentions of letting him go.

"What are you thinking?" He whispered, breaking the kiss to place his forehead against mine. Noses almost touching and amber iris locked in an intense gaze.

"If world domination is possible." I replied seriously. Watching as his angular jaw muscle twitched into a half smile, and with it exuded a certain boyish charm.

"Other than world domination." He declared.

"Well my mental monologue isn't all that exciting, usually just me making random or skewed observations. But I guess I had somewhat of an epiphany." I said wistfully, as we began to walk; arm in arm, along the snow covered path that lead back home.

"And this great epiphany?"

"Perhaps forever won't be so bad is there is two of us."

…

December 15th 1930

His long torso stretched upwards, fingers threading the heavy silk curtains into their designated brass hooks. Before artfully arranging the fabric and pulling it back with the pretentious matching ties. "All done." He said.

I gazed up from the cherry wood linen chest, pretending that I had not been watching him the entire time. "Thank you. Saves me having to get a stool." I smiled, continuing to rummage through piles of fabric in my avid attempts to find a hunting shirt and breeches. The near unsuccessful outcome an annoying reminder of the washing stack that still needed to be done.

"Looks like snow again." Edward said, watching the sky through the bedroom window.

"It's snowed all bloody week." I muttered angrily, throwing the odd item of clothing behind me.

"You know the cat's fur is quite thick I'm sure he'd be fine outside."

"Edward you can't put him outside, the snow is a foot deep." I replied shaking my head. While he took a seat on the corner of the bed, already dressed and ready to brave the worst the winter had to offer.

"But does it have to claw at my belongings and mine alone?" He growled out.

"It has a name." I stated. Finally finding my desired items right at bottom of the trunk, typical.

"Tarquin is not a suitable name for a cat." He said tersely.

"Aww I think it's quite fitting." I grinned, as he in return gave me a passive stare and cock a brow.

"Tarquin?" He repeated slowly.

"Fine. What name do you suggest?" I exasperated, throwing my hands into the air in defeat. Before moving over to the bed, and asked sweetly if he could undo the row of buttons along the back of my peach coloured dress. I swept my hair to one side as he began the process of unfastening the little fabric buggers, slowly as to not rip the stitching.

"Oh I don't know...how about dinner?"

"Edward you're not eating the cat!"

"Of course not love, never dream of it."

And I could only roll my eyes and hope Edward's hatred towards the cat wouldn't result in its sudden disappearance. Otherwise he would find himself crawling into the attic and wall spaces to chase away the mice.

"All done." He said softly, giving my waist a squeeze. I shrugged out of the heavy cotton dress, folded in neatly over my arm and draped it over the back of the vanity chair with the intent to hang it later. The soft silk under blouse and thick stockings would need to be removed, they were expensive commodities and I didn't want them stained or ripped during a hunt. I grabbed the cheap items from the bed and strolled into the adjoining bathroom to change. Returning moments later to grab a length of parcel twine, to use as a makeshift hair tie.

"All ready." I declared, blowing out the last of the oil lamps on the bedside table. And handing Edward the door key as we locked the house, as it seemed I had knack for losing the thing.

His observation was spot on; the sky bulged with great grey clouds that looked ready to burst. With the temperature as low as it was, the chance of us getting another lashing of snow was a given. Snow was a beautiful sight at first, but after a prolonged period of time and constantly getting soaking upon every outing. It had become hindrance. Keeping away any decent prey and leaving the likes of scrawny deer. This is the reason I would never live in Alaska.

And never recommend the Toledo area to golden eyes vampires. Because other than the likes of white tailed deer, there really was a lack of viable prey. The nearest hunting ground came in the form of the remnants of the great black swamp, nine thousand acres of prime marshland.

"Well you're positively glowing with happiness." Edward divulged sarcastically, giving my shoulder a soft nudge as we ran east. I pouted and returned the shove with a little more gusto, only succeeding in making myself stumble.

"I'm so sick of hunting deer." I whined. "It's so bloody bitter…no pun. I miss the bears."

"I know. But unless you want to go further north and aggravate an angry bear out of hibernation, I'm afraid deer's going to have to do." He reasoned.

"I could aggravate a bear." I mumbled, dodging a low hanging tree branch that hovered at head height.

"Without a doubt." He grinned. Eluding a feeble punch I threw in his direction, before holding his hands up in surrender.

The boundary of the area came with the smell of the wet meadows, situated along the shore of Lake Erie and the many small rivers feeding into it. Although most probably more potent in the warm summer months, the musty scent of rotting flora was quite strong. It was not helped by the northerly wind blowing in our direction, yet I was thirsty and the bitter breeze would aide my hunt. We parted on the promise to meet at a designated spot once finished; Edward went North West up towards the denser forest. While I travelled further East along the muddy, silt ridden river that fed the great lake.

While the shallow river banks were mostly iced over, the centre was still moving and much warmer than the air temperature. Thus causing bellows of steam to rise and hang over the land like a low lying fog. I kept to the tree line allowing its density and the white mist to hide me from any prey in the vicinity, while slowly moving through the darkness to cover more ground. Even with my shoes sodden with marsh water and dirt already smeared on my once crisp clothing; it was the exhilaration of this kind of hunt that kept me feeding on animals. Even when the taste could not hold a candle to the likes of human blood.

And soon my basic instincts were rewarded, as enhanced senses encountered a herd of white tailed deer drinking from cracks in the ice. But even with eyes on the side of their heads and large ears, they were no match for my speed. With one leapt I touched down on the opposite side of the river, hands grabbing the neck of the nearest animal. Its cervical vertebrae snapped cleanly over my knee, leaving only a couple of involuntary muscle spasms as my contenders. Within seconds I gorged savagely at an open neck wound.

….

_A/N: Gosh I really hate writing romance, reading it I love, writing not so much. So I hope this is good enough. And yes the cat finally has a name, Tarquin. Which happens to be the name of my flat mate's super posh new boyfriend, to which I mentally giggle every time she mentions him. Such an epic name._

_Drop us a review._


	23. Chapter Twenty Two: Memento Mori

_Yay finally I've got another chapter out! I hope to god there are still people reading, my complete incompetence to update hasn't forgone my notice. But a lack of muse was to blame and I spent a couple of days writing out the plot so far; as I managed to forget what the hell occurred in my own story. The dates got so complicated and I confused myself, as I'm also trying to stick to the dates dictated by the books. But it's all sorted now and if I'm quite honest I do quite like this chapter, that's if I do say so myself. _

_Once again a big thanks to anyone who, reviewed, alerted, favoured etc. You guys are the reason I write. So as I dip into my Supernatural box set (which is awesome), I declare I do not own the characters or rights to the Twilight Saga. _

Chapter Twenty Two: Memento Mori

January seemed to linger much longer than any other month of the year, and by the midpoint I began to wonder why such a month occurred. With the elation of Christmas and the New Year over, all that remained was another sordid prediction for the next few months. The previous year's economic outlook was published and looked as bleak as the upcoming forecast; it seemed my hope of re-entering the stock market was a distant dream.

Much like the chance of the snow ever melting, or warm weather ever arriving.

The roads into the city centre were barely passable at best, but now under nearly a foot of the white powder it was almost impossible. Even those who were still able indulge in the modern advancements in the motorcar, found themselves at the mercy of frozen engines and tractionless conditions.

From my position; lounging lazily across the regency sofa, with my feet propped up on the heavily upholstered arm and body sagging into the plush cushions. I had a perfect view of the white precipitation clinging to the diamond window latticing, and pressed it's self lovingly against the glass panes. Effectively blocking my view of the outside world, and making the room impossibly darker.

The pastel blue dress I had chosen as the day's attire was beginning to crease, as my position became prolonged. The hemline now pooling around the top of my knees, exposing sliver scars and a great ringed mark on my right leg. Where once upon a time I had lost concentration during a fight, and subsequently had my lower limb torn away. It was a simple occupational hazard at the time; we shrugged it off and went to find our missing part. Then watched with morbid satisfaction as our own bone and flesh began to knit back together.

With no desire to move; and with an impossible amount of skill on my part, I stretched my foot to the sofa side table and flicked the switch on the radio. The first sound came from the internal filaments heating, before the smell of burning Bakelite hit the air. Although the smell of the warm resin was nothing to be desired, the sound quality was much better.

It crackled into life and bought about the newest instalment of the Hollywood Playhouse, a radio drama show that I had listened to once or twice. But the plot lines were horrendously stupid, not to mention the hoard of characters confusing as hell. I could have changed the station, but for the life of me could not be bothered to get up. Instead watched as the cat moved from the window seat; from his respective pastime of snow gazing, and in one graceful pounce landed atop the radio. As foolish as the mangy cat might have seemed, he had already discovered the warming qualities of Bakelite radios.

The very sight caused a sickly sweet giggle to burst forth from my lips, to which was hastily silenced as my hand slapped across my mouth.

It seemed having not left the house in three days the situation was beginning to make me delirious, so with an added flourish I removed myself from the couch. Patted down my messed up hair and; in an unladylike fashion, adjusted the corset around my chest.

"I'm going out." I called softly, snagging my heavy mink fur coat from the hook along with a pair of boots from the rack.

"Out?" Edward questioned, appearing from the drawing room a pile of documents in hand.

I nodded. "Just into town. I shouldn't be too long." He placed the papers down on the hall table, before helping me into my coat and fastening up the buttons.

"Have you finished talking to the lawyer?" I asked, running my hand along the back of my neck to expel the hair than had been caught.

He shook his head, rolling his amber eyes in obvious distain at the incompetence of the legal system. "No, I'm waiting for him to get back to me. Something about needing to talk to the realtor, the house has to be surveyed and a new price agreed." He stated.

With no desire to move back to Cleveland in the near future, I had decided to finally sell off the house. But with the property under the name of my faux husband, they needed confirmation from said husband as my word alone was not enough. I was just glad Edward was here to speak to them; he had a much better way with words than I. My patience could only last so long after being left on hold for more than a couple of minutes, and before my anger was redirected at the telephone.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

I shook my head, giving him a coy a smile above the heavy collar of my coat. "And take away the enjoyment of sorting out our financial situation...never."

Edward chuckled in response, moving closer and wrapping his arms around my fur clad waist. Leaning over slightly so my back arched with the height difference, and our foreheads pressed together. "Be careful." He whispered.

My hand moved from their grip on his biceps, traveling upwards until they rested together at the nape of his neck. "Always am." I replied. "I doubt the roads or centre will be busy anyhow." There was a hum of agreement, before we were pulled impossibly closer and his lips met mine. Moving together with such conviction, I began to wonder why I wanted to leave the house at all. Staying in with such a sinfully attractive man seemed like a much better alternative than the snow covered outdoors, and his mouth moving against my own was making me lose all hopes of concentration.

We broke apart far quicker than I would have liked; leaving me in a somewhat lustful haze, looking stupidly into his darkened eyes and half smirk. "Have fun now love." And with a flourish of paper he returned to the drawing room, as I stood pouting in the empty hall having been openly seduced by my own mate.

"Fine." I mumbled, grabbing my woollen gloves from the side table, and pocketing two letters that needed to be posted. Before yanking open the door with a little more force than necessary. I was tempted to leave without denouncing myself, but called out a half-hearted 'bye', as my conscience and utter adoration for him betrayed me.

Somehow my love induced mind successful co-ordinate my feet outside, hands even managed to close the door. I followed the trail of Edward's larger footprints through the snow, having to leap slightly as his strides were further apart. The whole garden glittered under a heavy blanket of white, permeated only by the cat's paw prints and the odd bird track around the marble water table. There were no visible signs of any plant beds, and probably no hope for any flowers in winter dormancy. It was safe to presume most were dead. Which really didn't bother me in the slightest, since I was hardly a great gardening pioneer.

With one last look at my hibernating trees, I began my weather hindered amble into downtown Toledo.

Upon meeting not a single soul on the road, and taking several sort cuts through the wilderness. It was not long before I came across the corner postal office, nestled on the junction of Main Street and Maple. It was most probably family run, the building and apartment above owned by the US Postal Service and leased to the family for a cut price, in return for their work of course. It was kind of hard to miss with the copious amount of advertising in the window, from the look of a timetable pressed against the glass paned door I was in time for the 5'oclock pick up.

The little iron bell above the door gave a chime as an elderly gentleman walked out; wrapped from head to toe in warm woollen clothing, he nodded his head in my direction and held open the door. With a final deep breath of the cold air, I walked inside. "Thank you Sir." The words were quickly directed to the man as the door swung shut. Sealing me within a confine space with another human, brown paper, numerous lengths of twine and other such letter writing oddities.

From behind the chipboard counter the young postmistress sat, currently weighting a package on some ancient looking scales. She pushed a pair of round glasses up her sloped nose; bit the end of a pencil before jotting something down in a ledger.

I shuffled my feet slightly as not to scare her, and then slowly made my way to the desk idly admiring some elaborate flowered paper in a human like manner. She looked up from her work, placing the pencil in the premade desk grove. "Good afternoon. Can I help you?"

"Yes." I clarified, fishing the two letters from within the depths of my pockets. "I would like to have these posted." I tried not linger too much, time was already ticking down and myself control dwindling.

"Humm Cleveland and Alaska? Yes?" She mumbled, licking her thumb and forefinger and flicking through a book of prices.

"Yes." I affirmed.

The first one to Cleveland was destined for the desk of the lawyer's office, containing the house papers and deeds. Once the property was sold the money would be transferred into a bank account, removed then deposited into another under a different name. Any traces of Isabella Ritter and her husband would vanish; with no history it would be much easier to make a clean start.

"That's twenty four cents for Alaska, and sixteen for Cleveland. So forty in total." She counted, taking the change from my hand quite gingerly before giving me the ten cents back.

The second letter was indeed destined for the colder climates of Alaska, and the home belonging to the Denali coven. It was the second letter I had sent to their address, a reply to one I had received. Tanya managed to convey her annoyance towards me perfectly in written hand, a true skill indeed. I had apologised profusely, even agreeing to her demands of some outlandish shopping excursion and a catch up within the next year. I came to realised just how much I missed her company, even the bitching.

"Thank you." I smiled, turning swiftly on my heel and almost throwing myself outside. With a satisfied inhale, my feet continued to walk down the gritted sidewalk.

But upon reaching a suburban street; less than a mile from home, where the forest met the edge of the street I stopped. My attention was caught by something in the corner of my vision, a dark figure standing amongst the trees. Not moving, watching. I tuned my head slowly, gripping the front of the thick fur coat in my fists.

There was a vampire in the woods.

He was huge. Tall and bulky. And even I, who had encountered a copious number of vampires in my time, noted his sheer size was almost unrivalled. His shoulders and arms were thick with muscles, only emphasized by the dark grey cloak that covered it all. Short black cropped hair, only served to make him seem even paler and enhance a slight olive complexion. Yet it was not the crimson of his eyes that terrified me, it was the coat of arms that hung so proudly against his neck that did it.

A member of the Volturi no less.

The male did not move, but continued to stand stoic, hands by his side and face in an emotionless mask. We both continued to watch each other. I may have been stealthily in my fighting skills, but there was very little chance I could ever win against someone so big. If I remembered correctly this was either Santiago or Felix, and I didn't fancy my chances against either one.

"Can I help you?" I called bluntly. Hoping to a higher force the fear I felt was not leaking into my voice, as I tried desperately to look impassive.

He gave a coy smile, glove covered hand pulling at the side of his cloak as he took a small step forward. "I've come to escort you home Miss." The depth and tone of his whisper suited his stature perfectly, while a couple of profanities ran through my own head. He had not come alone on this particular venture, so it seemed the rest of the Volturi were residing in my home. I suddenly began to wish Edward had accompanied me on my outing.

"I can assure you I am perfectly capable of walking myself home. Sir." I replied curtly.

"Of course. I am just here to make sure there are no….. _difficulties _on your way." I did not fail to catch the word he stressed, or the hidden meaning behind it. He was here to make sure I did not retaliate. "So if you'd please." He held out his hand to me, tilting his wrist and watching me carefully. I clenched my jaw and pursed my lips, knowing there was no hope of me escaping this situated. We both knew it and reluctantly I had to admit defeat.

With no humans nearby, I stepped down from the sidewalk; avoiding the pile of snow stacked against the curb, and crossed the road. Reaching the tree line and his hulking body. He smiled at me again, nodding his head towards the supposed polite hand gesture. There was little doubt in my mind that if I refused the motion, he would take a more drastic measured to get me home. So I rather reluctantly placed my hand on his offered one, hoping that my own gesture would prove I was willing to cooperate. His fingers curled around my own, and we began to run towards the house.

….

_Oh I'm so happy that I got to include the Volturi, I think I have a bit of an obsession with them. I have such an older guy crush on Michael Sheen. Now I'm uber excited to start writing the next chapter._

_Reviews would be much appreciated. _


	24. Chapter Twenty Three: Si Fecisti, Nega

_This can't be right, another update? Do your eyes deceive you dear reader? Well bloody hell, all it took was six hours on a train to write this bad boy. There were no distractions, no annoying flat mates, no Supernatural or ghost hunters to steal away my attention. Just a butt aching train journey, from Edinburgh to London. In which one attempted to look professional by whipping out their laptop, and typing like a crazy woman. _

_Always say it, but I will say it again and again. Thanks to everyone who takes the time to read, review, alert, or add this to their favourites. You don't know how much it means; it makes me ecstatically happy every time. The views from the last chapter were dance worthy! _

_So I disclaim any ownership of the Twilight Saga characters or franchise. And on with chapter twenty three!_

Chapter Twenty Three: Si Fecisti, Nega

Shrubbery and trees flew past in a haze of greens and browns, with the occasional streak of white in exposed clearings. The male vampire at my side took no notice of the surroundings, instead ran with a set target and let nothing stand in his way. He did not run in front or behind, but directly at my side. Matching his speed perfectly with my own, until even our footfalls echoed perfectly in time. I seriously doubted it was a mere accident, a clever ploy to make it seem like he could predict any move I made. That or I was becoming incredibly paranoid.

Once the view of the familiar gable roof came into view, my chest was beginning to palpate uncomfortably. I wondered if Percival was the possible reason behind this unannounced visit, or perhaps it was something more sinister like recruitment. My non-religious attitude was shot to hell when I began to mentally pray that Edward was safe, because if something happened to him….I wasn't sure there was anything for me to live for.

I almost lashed out as bulky himself stopped short of the house, removed his hand from my own and moved it to grip tightly onto my right upper arm. "Better safe than sorry." He whispered.

"Unhand me." I let out a small hiss of indignation, jostling my arm under his hand. "Do you think me completely incompetent as to try and outrun your coven?"

Bulky let out a low deep chuckle, placing his face uncomfortably close to my own with a twisted grin. "I'd rather not take my chance with a reputation like yours Miss." He declared. I glowered with utter hatred, trying my hardest to bite my tongue and the scathing remark that yearned to be spoken.

"Take me home." I bit out, already marching towards the driveway, where the scents of unknown vampires stained the air and disfigured the once perfect snow prints. He followed, merely one step behind every one I took, his cloak bellowing outwards like a paperback villain.

Rather reluctantly I opened my own front door, ready to face whatever lay behind, and dreading the scene that would greet me. Gingerly I stepped through, meeting the pervading sound of silence head on. But the heavy atmosphere and mix of unfamiliar smells only fuelled the stomach churning realisation my house had been invaded. I removed my coat; of my own accord, and hung it up on the designated peg. Bulky closed the door behind him, but did not move ahead instead waited for me to finish my routine.

"Please wipe your feet; I've just had the floors cleaned." I remanded.

My scolding was met by a call of humour from the parlour, to which I judged this meeting was taking place. "Yes, yes Felix do remember your manners." The same male voice called, as Felix rather reluctantly did as he was asked.

I joined the room of guests, noting it was indeed Aro who sat upon the regal armchair next to the fire. One leg situated over the opposite one, finger tips bouncing together in an odd sense of amusement. The portrait on the north side of Carlisle's study was almost a carbon copy of this real version; both had that paper like quality of the skin, milky film across his burgundy eyes. It was like he was slowly petrifying in my living room.

Flanking behind him; dressed from head to toe in ebony black garments and cloaks, stood the witch twins. Their childlike innocence and angelic faces a complete faux, beautifully concealing such an ugly talent. Upon their breast an insignia, one that they were clearly so proud to uphold.

"And you must be Isabella." Aro smiled. He gestured his hands towards me, before flicking his wrists outwards in some elaborate fashion. "Forgive me child for arriving unannounced. But we have other business to attend a couple of states over, and thought it was only polite that we introduced ourselves on the way through." He continued. There were no introductions on his part; he knew all too well none were needed.

"Of course." I replied. Keeping a tight placid smile on my face, and nodding along with ladylike manners. I moved slowly across from the door frame, taking a seat next to a very tense Edward on the sofa. His left hand immediately reached for my right, lacing our fingers together and holding on tightly. I tried to offer him a reassuring smile, but his dark amber eyes rested heavily upon Felix, who stood blocking the entire door.

"Ah please forgive Felix from stealing you from the street." Aro apologised, dipping his head in my direction. "We are in quite the hurry, you see."

"That's alright." I affirmed, forgiving his lie with one of my own. Hurry indeed, I doubted the Volturi were ever in a hurry for anyone, it was to make sure I did not disappear at the first sign of trouble. Sending in someone far larger than I, to make me think twice about making a run for it. Although if they honestly thought I'd leave Edward to their mercy, they had more brawn than sense.

"Good." He smiled in an overly familiar way, exposing his razor sharp teeth. Aro's hands moved to his chest, his fingers knitting together and flexing inwards. "I am so glad to finally put a face to a name, for you my dear have cropped up in more than one mind I have come across recently." He confessed openly.

"Really, how so?" I prompted, leaning further forward onto the edge of the heavily cushioned sofa. Merely a moment in and the true intent to this impromptu get together was already about to be exposed, he obviously wanted something from me. Edward stiffened slightly, sitting up a little straighter in his seat.

"Carlisle." He bit out, frowning heavily.

In return Aro nodded. "Yes my old friend Carlisle. I heard news upon the grape vine he had gotten married, and wished to congratulate the happy couple." He clapped gleefully, in an exuberant manner. "And low and behold the two of you appeared in his minds eyes, and what a talented pair you are. A mind reader and a mental shield." He paused.

"But I wonder?" Aro smiled coyly to himself, he gazed at his own fingers as they flexed and then looked straight at me. Edward shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, and it did not take a genius to make the connection. "Perhaps you would permit me to try my gift upon you Isabella?" He asked.

But it was not like I could refuse him, so I smiled in return. "Of course there is no harm in trying."

The moment his icy hand touched mine, a foreign sensation began to prod against the confines of my mind. It felt like a small ache of pain throbbing in the back of my thoughts, trying to invade my personal space. I did not like such a thing; instead I began to focus on repelling the sensation and pushing against it. As I did Aro's milky eyes slid open. "Well, well how every extraordinary. I saw not a peep of your minds eyes; it was completely blank…quite a talent." He sat back for a moment.

Worry began to swell in the pit of my stomach, as I began to wonder if this really was recruitment. I could not help but glance towards Edward, but there remained a look of confusion across his perfect features. "Now I got quite the surprise Isabella, when I realised I had come across you before. From the memories of another vampire, one from the south. Do you know who I speak of?" Aro asked, his dark brows rising in mock innocence.

I nodded. "Yes, I believe you are referring to Percival." My voice dipped almost betraying me, only calmed by the soothing circles Edward's thumb was tracing on the palm of my hand. "A couple of months ago I came across him in Cleveland." I began. "Him having fled from the south. It seemed Maria's army-" A growl of animosity rang through the room, having left the lips of the small blonde child. Aro's left hand shot up, effectively silencing her dead.

"Please continue." He had crept forward in his own chair, looking increasingly pleased by the tale I spun.

"Maria's army had ambushed them and destroyed the newborns, only Percival and two others survived. He fled north, the others south. We spoke briefly and he told me of your encounter." I finished.

"Yes it was during said encounter that I came across the information regarding your creators passing." He prompted. Sending my mind into a spiral of confusion, this talk was no longer regarding the insanity of Percy's plans to over throw the Volturi but of my creator.

"You are referring to the manner in which I killed Horace?" I asked bluntly.

"Oh good heavens, I have not come to speak will you about such a...meaningless death. But as the topic has been bought up...I wish to ask you some questions regarding Horace." Well it was clear to see just how much the Volturi regarded the preservation of life, but Horace was a bastard anyway so there was no love lost.

I could feel my brow cock, and was quite sure a look of utter bewilderment was written across my face. "Alright...ask away." I responded delicately.

There was some type of elation upon Aro's face, and it made me wonder if agreeing to such terms was the correct thing to do. Although it was hardly possible to refuse with the witch twins boring holes into either side of my face. "You were one of the first to be sired by Horace, correct?"

"The fourth." I corrected. "There was no designated army at the time, only the five of us. Horace told us he wished to recruit more, to gain territory as close to Mexico City as possible."

"And where was it you awoke to find yourself." He questioned, his cloudy eyes searching mine for answers.

"From my change I awoke in South Texas."

"And the others."

"The other newborns said they had been sired further north, one even claimed to have hailed from Allentown, Pennsylvania. But Horace had this...habit of going on long excursions, sometimes for weeks at a time. Often returning with a new recruit." I did not miss the knowing look shared between the child siblings, as they ingested the information I recalled. Something I had shared was information they clearly desired, and I did not like this one bit. Being out of the metaphorical loop was beginning to make me more than a little uncomfortable.

"And did Horace ever indulge in his own history?"

"Very little. Horace was not the type to share." I confirmed, watching as his face flashed with a crestfallen look. "Although he did once claimed to have been a survivor of Benito's army-"

"Complete bullshit." Felix interjected loudly, folding his muscular arms across his chest and standing impossibly taller. "There were no survivors. We made sure of that." He declared smugly. It was promptly wiped away, as Aro shot him a reprimanding look.

"Yes thank you for that Felix." He all but scolded the muscular member of his elite guard; before turning his chalky face back towards us. Waiting to see if I would indulge ay more information, before it was clear there was nothing more to say. "Well." Aro clapped suddenly. "I think we have overstayed our welcome." He took to his feet in one graceful gesture, sending both Edward and I to ours. Hands still clasped together tightly, with the euphoria that we may just live through this encounter.

"Friends." He announced. "It has been such a pleasure to meet you both."

"Likewise." Edward replied politely, his grip on my fingers told me it was not the case. We watched them gracefully walk from the house, cloaks bellowing out behind them. The three members of the guard flanked Aro at each side, protecting him from any threat.

"Remember if you ever find yourself at a loose end...the Volturi will welcome you with open arms."

"Thank you for the offer; we will keep it in mind." Edward responded, his hand wound its way around my waist as he gave Felix one last fleeting glare. Then like a breeze of ice cold wind from the lakes, they were gone. Hidden by the density of the trees, and the shadows as the night began to kill the day. Their footfalls became more and more distant, until it was only silence; and the occasional bird call, that pervaded the calm.

I exhaled a ragged breath in which I poured my utter disbelief, removing myself from Edward's hold to close the door. For some outlandish reason I even drew the chain across the latch. "Bloody hell." I muttered, running my hand through my hair and tugging sharply on the roots. When that provided no relief, I all but fell into Edward's arms. Embracing him with my arms around his neck, head pressed firmly against his chest. "Are you alright?" I whispered softly, running my fingers through the hair upon his nape.

"I'm fine love." He kissed the side of my temple. "A better question is are you alright? I was so worried when they said someone had gone to _retrieve_ you."

I nodded best I could. "I'm alright, thought I better come quietly. That bulky guy was huge, didn't fancy my chances against him."

"Well I'm glad; I don't know what I'd do without you." He replied solemnly, resting his chin atop my head. A sobering thought, because if it had been the other way around...I would have found the quickest way to dispose of myself.

"No." I stated.

"No?"

"No, don't think such a horrid thing." I scolded. "It's too morbid and tragic. I said I'd stay with you always, but that's a two way street. So no one's dying on anyone. Understand?"

"Yes ma'am." He chuckled, walking me backwards into the study without removing a hand from our embrace. An unvoiced notice that the parlour was now out of bounds for the foreseeable future, having been violated by such unannounced guests.

Edward sat on one of the moss coloured leather armchairs, pulling me down on his lap as I chucked my legs over the brass studded arm. "So." I pressed. "Am I in any trouble?"

Edward shook his head quickly, before replying with a verbal 'no'. "Other than being reassured that you are no threat, and slightly enamoured with the thought of us joining his guard. Aro's focus remained on getting information from you about your creator."

"Why is everyone suddenly so interested in Horace?" I questioned, watching the expression on his face intently as he pursed his lips.

"I'm not completely certain." He confessed. "None of them gave much away, keeping their thoughts very uniformed. Only ever concentrating in the words being spoke, none of them thought in any depth, it was like they were-"

"Blocking you." I finished, wide eyed as to just how skilled the Volturi must be. I could barely keep my mind on one thought at a time, let alone trying to keep a clear mind. But having been around for much longer than the likes of myself, perhaps the Volturi needed something to entertain themselves during those long nights of self-proclaimed rule. We sat in comfortable silence; mulling the meeting over individually, with the notion Aro was keen to keep something from general knowledge.

"I don't like being in the dark." I frowned. "Felix was pretty damn adamant there were no survivors when Benito's army was destroyed. Which conflicts with the story Horace told us...not that anyone believed a fucking word he said." I spat.

Edward pried my fingers away from their vice like grip upon the upholstered arm, just as the fabric began to give way under my nails. "Best not dwell on it. The Volturi got what they came for, and Horace's secret has gone with him to the grave."

"Yeah." I muttered in agreement, running my free hand through the tangles of my hair and removing a small horde of pins. "I just regret not beating my own secret from him, before tearing him to pieces."

"I know love." He replied. And once again I could not help but wonder if situations would have been easier if I had retained any information regarding the past me, or if I had just a mere clue into why I died. Maybe I would have been more compassionate, more understanding, perhaps a better person. Such thoughts had riffled my mind on many occasions before, but this time was different. This time I had someone who loved me for the person I was now, and I was suddenly happy to be the person without a past. Because forever was looking pretty damn good.

Leaning my weight against him, I watching as he patiently began unlacing one of my boots, removing it to place by the hearth as to not dirty the carpet. "Did they break in?" I asked.

"No, they knocked the front door." He stated. Fiddling with the hemp laces threaded through the many eyelets and hooks. "I had to let them in." Edward mumbled.

I frowned, predicting the approach of a self-loathing or self-blaming moment. "Of course you did silly." I rolled my eyes. "One doesn't simply shut the door in the Volturi leaders face. Especially when those witch twins are flanking him. So don't you even think for a moment that anything that transpired was your fault?"

As he when to apologise once again, I pressed the palm of my hand against his mouth. And tried in earnest to give him the best stern look I could possibly muster, but all it took was one look from his smouldering gold flecked eyes and my resolve melted.

"I love you." He said, words muffled behind my hand.

"I love you too." I replied softly.

...

_Oooh a longer chapter haven't seem one of these bad boys in a while. I kind of wanted to have a kick ass fight scene, but let's face it Bella and Edward would never win against the Volturi alone. Meaning the main characters to my story would have been killed off. _

_Because I'm quite sad I wondered how long a novel would be, so as a great lover of Harry Potter decided to Google the number of words in each one. There's something like 76,944 words in the Philosopher's Stone. That's like 20,000 words to go and I've written a novel length story? That's crazy! _

_So if you've got the time drop us a line!_


	25. Chapter Twenty Four: A Remembrance

_So this chapter is a little different, to mark the one hundredth anniversary of Titanic's maiden voyage and sinking, I have written my own version. Kind of like a jump back in time to 1912, Bella of course will still be human. So unfortunately an Edward-less chapter (boo), but back to the good stuff in the next chapter (yay.) This took a little longer to update, but I was determined to publish this on April 15__th__, and here in London it still is. So I win!_

_Once again many thanks to those who review, alerted, or favour. Much thanks. _

_Of course I do not own the Twilight Saga Franchise. Because my bank balance doesn't have that many zero's._

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Twenty Four: A Remembrance<span>

April 10th, 1912, Southampton Berth 44

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Apart from the scattering of wispy white clouds lingering on the horizon, the day was pale and clear with a fresh north-west to west wind. Although a fair day forecast, I was increasingly glad for the velvet trimmed fur coat that mother had so strongly insisted I wear. But one drew the line at the ostentatious matching muff. It had been a mild spring that had yielded from a snowless winter, and the accessory was quite unneeded. But I doubted it was the last I had seen of the item, and was sure it had been packed into the depths of one of my trunks in secret.

I sincerely hoped New York to be warm.

The motorcar zipped cleanly through the Southampton streets, overtaking anything that dared to move at a slower pace. From the driver's seat the chauffeur made an indignant little sound as a carriage lingered in the road too long, he knew there was an appointment we could not be late for.

Within said automobile, I sat opposite my father and akin my mother; trying in earnest to shield myself from her excitable chit chat. With the days broadsheet cast upon his knee and the occasional nod towards my mother, father had the skill of keeping her subdued down to a fine art. I watched his up-flicked moustache twitch to the left every time he read something disagreeable, and how he bought the corners of the paper together in order to turn a page.

My father was a man of little words; conveniently paired with a woman of many, his emotions usually were displayed in gestures rather than speech. This was no pleasure trip for him, with the new yard in Nova Scotia his business was about to expand. And even I; who had no knowledge in the field, could see the light strain that appeared in his brown eyes, a couple more silver hairs and a constant compulsion for updates of the stock market.

He had even requested up-to-date news via Titanic's wireless station, at regular intervals during our seven day trip. Never wanting to be out of the proverbial loop.

Minding my atrociously broad hat; with its face-shadowing brim and feathered corsage, I skilfully managed to turn my head towards the window. Noting the view of the tiny terrace houses that lined most streets, had now given way to the great open expanse of the docklands. The mirage of shimmering water lined with seemingly hundreds of large vessels and small fishing boats. It was such a difference from the ample green countryside encountered on the train journey from Waterloo Station.

It was as the car turned onto the strait of berth 44, that Titanic did come into view, blocking out the entirety of my window and casting a great shadow over the dock. And what a sight it was.

The black and white trimmed hull towered over everything in her dock, smoke bellowed from three of the mustard coloured funnels creating its own string of clouds. The great body of the ship permeated with hundreds upon hundreds of perfectly round portholes, people already ambled and waving from the rails of the open upper decks. The whole scene swarmed with excitement and trepidation for the voyage ahead.

Mother's fingers gripped my forearm as she moved in her seat to get a better look; even father had folded the paper upon his knee to acquire a view. "Oh, the postcards do not do it justice." She trilled excitedly, shaking my arm to further prove her point.

"It is a fine luxury liner." He nodded in agreement. But even as a merchant shipper I was quite sure it was the most handsome ship he had ever seen, a lot more attractive than the cargo ships moored in London. On the odd occasion I visited the West India Docks; much rarer now I had come of age, were always punctuated by the smell of rotting cargo or sheer bedlam of people loading and offloading stock. The large steel vessels were built for the importation and exportation of goods, not luxury travel.

As soon as the automobile came to a steady stop along berth 44, a commotion sounded between a group of men stood in a huddle next to the covered gangway. Orders were given by the one who looked to be in charge, before a finely dressed fellow hastily made his way towards the car. The double rows of pressed brass buttons glinted in the morning sun as he made his approach, opening the door before standing stoic to one side.

Father was the first to exit, his expensive leather shoes tapping rhythmically against the wooden planks of the dock. The gold trim along his hat matched perfectly with the gold inlay upon his waistcoat, the three piece suit making him all the more gentlemanly against Titanic's backdrop. From the inner pocket of his black tailored jacket a bundle of bound documents were extracted, passed to the other man before he bowed quickly and departed towards the ship.

With his ivory topped cane under one arm, father extended his gloved hand into the car, to aid both mother and I. Once again, I was forced to mind my hat on the frame of the motorcar, dipping low to avoid snagging the corsage. And I was even more mindful of my footing against the uneven paving; for I was known to cause myself a mischief, and this really wasn't the social occasion to fall. Moving carefully to one side, I was finally given the chance to view Titanic in the open.

The notion made all the more incredible by the smell of the salty breeze that flowed along the pier, and the sound of her whistle reverberating through the air. Any apprehension I may have had regarding the trip instantly evaporated, and I was completely elated to be privileged enough to go on board.

"How wonderful." Mother breathed, almost quivering on the spot.

The sound of a vibrating motor took my attention as our secondary automobile arrived neatly behind the first, quickly swarmed by four men dressed in the same navy blue uniforms. Each one moved swiftly to offload our numerous trunks, cases and hat boxes. While from the car emerged the house staff, we were to travel with. Stepping down heavily; without the aid of anyone, my governess Margret appeared. She took a calculating scope of the surrounds, before brushing down her woollen coat and throwing a look of disfavour in the direction of father's manservant Wilkins.

I hoped in earnest the trip would calm her frayed temper; the woman was as fiery as her ruddy complexion. Although, I was quite glad she was putting the younger man in place, rather him than me.

"Isabella, come along, dear." I turned back to face mother and her beckoning hand, blushing at being caught idly staring. Quickly- but carefully- I followed the lead of my parents as they were chauffeured up the gangway by another meticulously dressed officer.

The moment I stepped upon Titanic I knew her luxury was surely unrivalled by any other ship afloat. The floors were covered with plush carpets and intricate Persian rugs, beautiful dark wood furniture, and stunning art decorated every room. We were greeted by our own personal steward and stewardess who were to show us to our designated staterooms, located on the starboard side of B deck. Also, upon this deck; located closer to the bow, were the Café Parisian and the À la Carte Restaurant, two places Mother was most elated to be visiting.

Dining on the likes of Titanic was sure to be a social affair, where the members of first class could mingle and parade their wealth in a way only they could. My parents were all too aware, packed into our entourage of luggage were the finest of clothing and jewellery. A good proportion of items were especially commissioned for the voyage, made with imported fabrics in exclusively uptight tailor shops.

Preparations had been a year in the making, ever since my father and Christopher Marvin made the announcement. With the opening of the new shipping dock in Nova Scotia, the main reason behind the trip; and Mr Marvin acting as my father's lawyer in the legal matters. It was supposed to be a chance to bring the two families together before the impending wedding, now set for August 12th. Although that very notion was enough to strike a fair bit of trepidation into me, at least George and I would have a chance to get to know each other before said alliance.

Still, we dutifully followed the lead of the stewards towards the staterooms, moving through a maze of beautifully decorated hallways. When a thought did strike.

"Do you know which cabins the Marvin's are residing in?" I asked, thinking it only polite to ask after them. Mother interpreted this differently and gave me a somewhat sly smile, and even though she was wrong, I could not help the blush that grew hotly against my cheeks.

"B57." Father stated in his baritone voice, looking impossibly taller against the narrow white hallway. "Their stateroom is just down from ours." I nodded in response, but purposely avoided eye contract with my mother whose brows were surely wagging.

With the thickness of the fur coat now becoming a burden within the warmth of the ship's decks, I was more than glad when our traipsing came to an end. And we were shown into the spacious stateroom.

Our parlour suite adorned cabin numbers fifty one, fifty three and fifty five, containing two bedrooms; each with their own entrance, and a shared sitting room in between. All decorated in a tasteful Georgian style, with cherry wood furniture and acanthus leaf mouldings. While Mother and Father were toured around their own private bedroom, I was shown to mine.

Having introduced herself as Anne Martin, my middle aged stewardess seemed to have a bright disposition about her. Her regional accent breaking through the Received Pronunciation, she had undoubtedly been taught.

"The door to your left is the one that adjoins the washroom and the one to the right is the wardrobe." Anne declared, smoothing her hands over the black cotton uniform.

I nodded in response, taking in the exquisite surrounds before my eyes landed upon the side table opposite the plush bed.

"The flowers were especially requested for you, Miss." She gestured to the fine bone china vase resting on the piece of furniture, and the red rose bouquet that almost engulfed it.

"They are beautiful." I observed, moving to touch the silky crimson petals. Although they were not my favourite flowers, the sweet fragrance was a warm comfort, reminding me of the rose soap we used at home.

"Your family staff have been situated straight across the hall. But if there are any other issues do not hesitate to call for me." She smiled politely, before turning to leave.

"Oh, and Miss?"

I turned to see her standing stoic in the door frame, hand clasped neatly on her starched white apron.

"Yes?" I replied.

"Welcome aboard."

* * *

><p>Merely minutes after I had been left to my thoughts, a rapid knocking appeared from the other door. Quickly followed by Mothers excitable voice calling my name through the wood. "Come in." I answered, trying to reset my hair with an eye watering amount of hair pins.<p>

From the reflection in the mirror, I watched as she tottered in as quickly as the confines of her skirt would allow, shutting the door with her hip and came to sit on the edge of my bed. Running her hand along the soft bedding and nodding approval. "Isn't this handsome." She sighed dreamily.

"It's incredible." I agreed. "I can't quite believe we're on Titanic, after all those photographs in the papers… they just do not do it justice."

"Oh, imagine the look on dear Mrs Barlette's face when she hears of the sights I have seen, her trip to Venice will be stale news when I get back." Her hands clapped together numerous times, before she was up on her feet and grabbing me by the shoulders. "And think… just think of New York Isabella. The fashion, the sights, the opera." She sighed, absently curling my hair around her fingers and pinning it up, a skill she had perfected over time.

Mother had always been a prolific socialite, with a love of being the center of many circles. Hosting lavish tea parties and being invited to exclusive events, she was always planning something new in her flighty ways. But it was this juvenile excitement and drive; not to mention her married name, that made her a fashionable friend to have.

Marriage at my age was the norm for her, having been in the same boat as I at eighteen. Although my father had been much older; already thirty by their nuptials, it was a well needed age gap to rein in her fickle ways. And I was quite sure my grandfather was relieved to find someone who would marry his wild daughter.

"All done." She declared. "Now hurry, hurry, put your hat on."

"Why where are we going?" I questioned, fixing the dastardly thing on my head.

"The Promenade Deck, silly, don't you want to see the ship depart?" I nodded quickly, wanting to be a part of the iconic moment Titanic would surely be remembered for and watch England disappear as we sailed towards Cherbourg. "Oh, and we shall be meeting the Marvin's on deck, so put a little rouge on your cheeks."

"Mother, we don't have our trunks yet." I reminded her slowly.

"Bother." She pouted, looking disgruntled at my news. But not one to be deterred by such an obstruction, her nimble fingers grabbed my cheeks and issued them with a sharp pinch. "Nice bit of colour." She mused, before giving them a pat and flouncing off.

The glass panelled Promenade deck seemed to go on for quite the distance, the ends only just visible over the groups of people viewing the scenes below. I strolled arm in arm with Mother, following the strong strides of my father. His walnut cane tapping rhythmically against the polished wood floor, setting a steady pace.

We politely nodded and greeted other persons in passing. Before mother's elbow began nudging me. "Look Isabella, there he is." She whispered erratically. Her eyes did not deceive her, standing impressively tall and gazing at the crowds below was George. Alongside him the portly Christopher and dainty Mary Marvin, looking on with idle interest.

"Marvin." My father announced loudly, grabbing the attention of the whole family. Christopher let out a gruff laugh and the two men shook hands, clapping each other on back in homage to their Eton education.

"Mrs Swan, a pleasure to see you again." George smiled, kissing Mothers hand, causing her to giggle outlandishly. "And of course not forgetting Miss Swan." He replayed the gesture upon my own hand. I would be a fool to admit I wasn't taken by his charm, and even more foolish to deny he was very handsome. His dark raven hair and piercing blue eyes; always so impeccably dressed and poised.

"George." I acknowledged with a smile. "How was your journey?"

"Agreeable." He placed his hand upon my waist and guided us closer to the glass windows. "Although we had hoped to join you on the boat train, but business in Oxford delayed our travel." He looked troubled by the turn of events, and my immediate response was to comfort him.

"But we are all together now." I tried, placing my hand on his arm in the hopes of providing some ease. It seemed to suffice, for he grasped my hand in his and tightly linked our arms together.

As noon arrived by the timing of George's pocket watch, there came a great cheer from the huge dock bound crowds and Titanic began to glide away from the berth. Surrounding her were numerous tiny tugs pulling and pushing her away from land and out towards the open sea. There reached a point in which the tugs no longer pulled, instead began to position the ship facing the opening of the River Test.

A great rumble from the bowels of the ship signalled the engines had started, and with it the mighty bronze propellers had started to turn.

"Excited?" George whispered.

"Exceedingly." I nodded feverishly.

Titanic's great bow began to edge faster and faster down river, leaving behind the masses of waving people. Visible now where two other ships moored further down and in tandem, both completely dwarfed by Titanic. Waves cast by the motion of our vessel caused the one closest to bob up and down uncontrollably. But as Titanic moved past the second; now identified as New York, the sound of gun shots pervaded the air. And it seemed as if New York's bow had begun to arc outwards, towards us.

"It's mooring lines have snapped." Father stated, narrowing his eyes as if to see better. Groups of people around us began muttering loudly, while slowly edging away from the windows.

"But it's not going to strike us." Mary Marvin replied confidently. She did not receive a reply, and the reassurance she had distilled upon herself was dulled. We all began to move backwards as New York continued its careering path; my grip on George's arm became parasitic. And we could only watch in muted horror as she came closer and closer.

The silence was pierced as someone yelled. "Tug." And all heads turned downwards, watching as a small red tug began to push against the unmanned ship. At the same moment Titanic's engines made a deep groaning noise, she came to a steady stop before beginning to move back towards the White Star Line docks.

There was an audible sigh of relief all round.

"Thank goodness." I whispered, hand against my racing heart. George was quick to soothe me, joining our hands together.

"Don't fret, my dear, Titanic is unsinkable."

* * *

><p><em>Having watched both seasons one and two of Destination Truth (my new obsession), while writing this out, I have to apologise if there are any mistakes. Because I'll be damned if American TV shows aren't bloody addictive. My wages are just getting spent on buying the box sets, it's not healthy. Soon it will be food, or season three, and I'm pretty damn sure I'll pick box set.<em>


	26. Chapter Twenty Five: Exspectata Domus

_Few, this was a toughie to get out, with Uni and work vying for my attention not to mention an ex-boyfriend who I could kick in the…. But it's out now. And I've finally written down the subplot, which will contain a whole lot of fighting and general vampire angriness. Not to mention the explanation behind whole Horace fiasco…but that's for later and we have to get through all this family drama first._

_So thanks for the reviews, alerts and favourites. Keep' em coming. _

_I don't own the rights to the Twilight Saga because I am broke and can't even rub two pennies together. _

Chapter Twenty Five: Exspectata Domus

June 16th 1931

It was unfathomable how four trunks could possibly hold all of my valuable worldly possessions, it just wasn't possible not to mention completely unreasonable. A detestable chore having to make the heart wrenching decision to part with a selection of my clothing and other items I had collected over the past decade. Even the taxidermist fox with odd marble eyes that I had become so fond of had to stay.

"Six trunks is all the taxi can hold." Edward reminded me once again, standing oh so idly at the door and watching me make such troubled decisions. "And I've already sacrificed one of my cases for you." His reasoning may have been correct but it wasn't going to stop my disgruntled feelings over the matter. As elated as I may have been at the prospect of re-joining Carlisle, this move also signalled the end of my nomadic existence. Ignoring the crippling loneliness that I had once felt, moving from place to place had also welded some enjoyable times. Who could deny the thrill of being the new elusive member to society, or mysterious stranger at the back of a speakeasy.

But all the baggage I had accumulated over the space of my nomadic decade would be useless; the eccentric twenties were over and with it the need for outlandish clothing and beaded cloche hats. So it was with the upmost reluctance I packed them into the depths of a linen box, and threw in handfuls of mothballs for good measure. And promised I would be reunited with them one day.

"You could just buy new clothes when we get to Rochester." Edward mumbled, clicking down the brass latches and fastening the leather straps on one of my finished trunks.

"Well of course I will." I replied. He gave be a bemused look, before it dawned upon him I was not joking.

"Then why take so much with us?" He asked disbelievingly, gesturing to the case that would barely close. I could only roll my eyes in his direction, before asking kindly for him to retrieve a box from under the bed. "Please tell be these aren't more shoes." He begged.

"No." I smiled. "It's just a little money I've saved, could you put it inside the locked side of the other case for me?" He nodded in response, as I shut away the linen box key within the bedside table. In the hopes it wouldn't go walk about, or get lose within the recesses of the cluttered house.

"Love, why isn't this money in the bank?"

I shrugged. "I don't trust the banks. The economic depression taught me humans are atrocious with financial management, I've come into some money and I'd like to keep it that way."

"But there's almost…" He began to count the bundles of money. "Sixty seven thousand dollars in here."

"And three more boxes in the under the bed in the spare room." This time it was he who rolled his eyes in my direction, yet still diligently went and retrieved the others from the blue bedroom.

Having received Carlisle's new address from Tanya, we had set about writing to him before turning up unexpectedly and since the first letter had been conversing regularly. With the house in Cleveland now sold and the cat finally gone; courtesy of the elderly couple several houses away. Who thought him just darling. And a week of unsettled weather forecast, it seemed like a prime time to move the almost four hundred miles to Rochester. It would have taken a couple of hours or so to make the journey on foot, but it seemed arriving via taxicab was a better way to make a polite reintroduction. Also mentioned was Rochester's unusually tight social community, who had already taken it upon themselves to circulate the imminent arrival of Carlisle's relatives around the suburban area. Receiving and distributing information was unusually quick amongst the slow mortals.

"All done." I called; snapping closed the last of the fixings and hauling the trunk into an upright position. Fingers brushing down the pleated powered blue day dress I had chosen for the trip, removing small feathers that had moulted from an old corsage. Twisting up my copious amounts of hair into a fussy style and adding several barrettes, I finally deemed myself ready to leave. I grabbed the two finished trunks with little difficultly, and they joined the others in the hall.

"Good timing." Edward announced, his voice sounding from below the landing. "The car is here."

"Excellent." I mumbled quietly, the first sign of unease fluttering nervously in my chest.

…

The journey along Lake Erie and up towards the Ontario shore line was seemingly quiet to our very human driver, but over the sounds of the Packard's engine Edward and I spoke in hushed whispers. Although we had both divulged to Carlisle about our _lapse _in diet, we had yet to discuss the Volturi issue. Agreeing it would be bought up eventually; just not something one could put down on paper. Since that unannounced meeting several months ago, there had been no sighting or news of the Volturi. Leaving us with the uncomfortable assumption that perhaps, just maybe it had been a fleeting visit for information.

But nobody liked to assume anything when it came to Volterra's answer to the royal family.

Having stopped twice on the road, the journey was entering its seventh hour when we passed the outskirts of Buffalo. Changing direction completely and coming parallel to the Ontario shore as well as the Canadian border. The motorcar had become completely silence, with the weight of the impending reunion weighting heavily on the atmosphere.

Even through Edward had described Esme and her motherly intentions; this was a new relationship that was going to be formed quickly. I was going to live with a complete stranger and although it had been done before, this time I couldn't just leave. Esme had only heard about me through stories, her first impression had been of my abandonment of the coven. So one could only guess what she really thought of me. At least I had a mind reading partner in crime, one who I could divulge information out of.

"There's no need to worry." He murmured, linking out fingers across the small gap.

"Who said I'm worried?" I replied.

"Someone who knows you well enough."

Perhaps I couldn't argue with that, but I didn't want to be placated with kind words. I would have to deal with the ramifications of leaving and build relationships, albeit a skill I couldn't boast came easily to me. "I'm dealing with it." I acknowledged, toying with the lacing along the hemming of my sleeve. A dire attempt to distract myself, as the miles on the road signs began to decrease and the first signs of the city emerged on the horizon.

"Looks like rain." The driver mumbled aloud, craning his neck to observe the unsettled clouds lingering ahead darkly.

But thickness of the storm clouds gave no promise of rain; even if it did the parched land could barely intake the water quick enough. All around the ground looked patchy; fields of once lush greenery were now mottled with sandy splotches. This area had gotten off lightly compared to the central regions, their droughts and storms were killing the human population. At least states surrounding the great lakes had an opulent water supply and with it a fruitful trade to fall back upon.

"Pretty ominous looking." Edward acknowledged politely.

"You got that right." He grunted, narrowing his eyes at us through the rear view mirror. Bushy brows and pronounced cranial ridge making him look like an angry vagrant, not helped by the abundance of facial hair he sported. And as unappetizing as he may have been the draw to his blood burned as the journey ticked by, the human scent and constant beating filled the confined space loudly. I hoped the house was situated with a bounty of animals in the near vicinity, but praying that bounty didn't just include elk. I hated elk.

"Geneseo, right?" Vagabond said suddenly, chewing loudly on yet another candy bar that had appeared miraculously from his jacket.

"Yes." I confirmed.

"Then welcome to your new residence." He declared gruffly, a wad of the chocolate shoved into his cheek as he spoke.

Ignore his manners; or lack of, I instead turned my attention to the scenery passing us by. Other than a few town buildings and monuments, along with the odd house set back from the roads, Geneseo looked inconspicuous. The perfect dwelling for our kind. The dinky town was all but seen in the space of minuets as we headed towards the outskirts, and it seemed far too soon before Edward was pointing out the almost reclusive entrance to the house.

I was almost quaking with nerves as the motorcar crunched against the gravel drive, and the beautiful colonial style house came into view. Its white wash cladding, cream shutters and two story pillars made it stand out grandly against the forested backdrop. But the beauty of the house was only enhanced as the homeowners stepped out, standing upon the door stoop and looking on.

There they were, standing side by side and looking so perfect together. Carlisle and Esme. Arms linked and watching with apprehensive smiles, such an uncanny resemblance to parents that disappointing them felt sinful. The overwhelming desire to belong flared up, along with a deep regret that it had taken me so long to return.

From the motorcar I stepped down shakily, taking care to remain human like in front of the driver. As Edward helped the older man with the luggage from the rack, I composed myself and prepared for a first impression. "Long time no see." I breathed, swallowing the thickness in my throat and attempting a small smile to smooth the tension. But my lips seemed to quiver under the pressure, and I sincerely hoped I could keep up my facade and refrain from turning hysterical. I averted my eyes to the ground as Carlisle's soft step came closer, feeling so very ashamed.

His pale hands grasped mine, gripping them tightly. "Welcome home Isabella."

And I would confess it was those words that made my chest tight and my throat thick and only years of practice meant I didn't bawl like an infant. But mostly I blamed Edward he had made me emotionally soft. "I'm sorry it's been so long." I confessed awkwardly.

"You have nothing to apologise for. We are just delighted to have you both back." He declared, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and giving a comforting embrace. In which I returned whole heartedly, revelling in the feeling of being back home. Elation was not a sufficient word to describe my happiness.

"I'm glad to be back." I replied honestly, looking forward to the safety and security that came with living in a larger group. No longer would I have my own warped view of the world dictate the decisions I made, often ending up in some kind of fight when things didn't go my way.

"Oh." I burst, suddenly remembering a pressing matter at hand. "Congratulations on getting married." He bowed his head in what I presumed was Carlisle's bashful face, but looked so devastatingly happy it was hard to tell. "Now I do believe Edward needs a hand with the cases, so... you do that. And I'm off to introduce myself." With a firm pat on the arm, I mustered my courage and made my way to Esme.

Standing just back from the meeting point, she looked the epitome of health and contentment, a stark contrast to the last time. Dressed in a beautiful pale green dress that perfectly complimented the golden tones of her hair, having become so much more pronounced in her vampire form. I sincerely hoped my own form had not been bedraggled on the journey here, consciously running a hand along the nap of my neck to make sure my pinned hair was still in place. "Hello Esme it's nice to finally meet you." I began, politely extending a hand to shake.

Her lips broke into a wide smile. "It's so nice to finally put a face to the voice." She pushed my hand to one side, instead wrapping her arms around me in a tight embrace. I stiffened, instinctively feeling completely consumed by the slight height difference she had over me, but became quickly pacified and managed to return some of the sentiment. She stepped back, keeping her hands on my arms and looking me over.

"The photographs don't do you justice." She announced. I could only dip my head in embarrassment at the unforeseen compliment and mumble out a thanks.

"Why don't I give you a tour of the house?" She asked.

"Yes I'd like that." I replied, following her diligently passed the threshold. As the pause in conversation started to linger, I began to deliberate over numerous conversation starters to break the silence. But nothing sounded good enough for the situation and as it continued to stretch, I began to pray for any kind of noise.

We moved into the spacious and meticulously decorated sitting room. Where the fresh regency style was a stark contrast to the heavy velvets of the Victorian house we had left behind, the odd eyed taxidermist fox really would have looked out of place. But I would be lying if I didn't at least acknowledge a little home sickness for the eccentric building in Toledo.

"I'd just like to thank you." Esme began softly, not beating around the bush.

"I have done nothing to warrant any gratitude." I replied. Gazed avidly around the room taking in the beautiful features, simultaneously stopping when I came across the heavily laden bookcase and automatically gravitated towards it.

"You may not think so, but I am grateful to you." She returned.

"For what?" I smiled bitterly. "Abandoning the coven. Running amok for a decade with no contact." I could only give myself a mental pat on the back for acting like a masochistic ass, further gratified when she didn't reply.

Great first impression.

I was gladly distracted by the sight of familiar titles on the bookshelf, immediately recognising my old books organised perfectly in height order. Dutifully The Legend of Sleepy Hollow had been rebound, the new green leather had been aged slightly to match the early publish date upon the inside cover. I had bought a set of classical literature with matching covers in Cleveland, but they never held the same appeal as my mismatching collection. Every book had been purchased individually from the second hand bookstore in Ashland; each was a successful trip into town.

"Carlisle was most adamant they were here for you." Esme stated.

I nodded, gingerly stroking the closet one with my forefinger. There may have been millions of copies printed since publication, but these were my books and they held sentimental value.

"You have quite the eclectic taste though." She said. Idly straightening out a plump sofa cushion that had sagged slightly in the middle, rearranging the others into a style she deemed acceptable.

"Yes I like the variation, but horror has proven to be my favourite." I replied, pulling myself away from my beloved books and following Esme further into the recesses of the house.

"Then you will have to recommend something for me, I dare say medical text books are not my desired choice of genre." She whispered the last part quietly.

"Not exactly prime reading material." I murmured, the two of us gazed backwards inconspicuously before sharing a humorous smile. Perhaps I could rectify this still.

…

Definitely not my favourite chapter, but Twenty Six means a new character introduction from everybody's favourite blonde bitch and more vampire tomfoolery.

Drop us a line.


	27. Chapter Twenty Six: Formosissimus Omniu

_Ahhh Uni deadlines. All six in the space of two weeks. But it's all over and I'm back in the Sire. And I know I complain about the English weather being crappy all the time, but over these last few week's something has been very wrong…it's so damn hot! I mean we are having proper sunbathing weather, my pale pasty skin is tanned (burnt). I'm walking around in shorts. _

_But seriously if I get invited to one more impromptu barbeque I may die from eating too much charcoaled food. So while I apply the after sun, enjoy. _

_I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga. That is all._

Chapter Twenty Six: Formosissimus Omnium

The atmosphere in the room was stifling, saturated with the smell of female's slickly sweet perfume and the repulsively lavish table spread. Ridiculously tiny canapés were filled with a range of expensive ingredients and even from the other side of the room there was no escaping the stench. While the humans stuffed their faces with the miniature food, there seemed to be a competition to out goad one another with trivial topics.

A flute of carbonated drink bubbled uselessly in my hand, the strawberry at the bottom seemed like a pointless addition. The towns founding families seemed to live in their own little world of prosperity and wealth, a stark contrast to those living in Rochester's own Hooverville. At least the other families living in Geneseo were perfectly palatable, mostly keeping to themselves and private lives private.

Yet an annual celebration to mark Geneseo's establishment had been an invitation we could not turn down, that or face the wrath of the self-appointed council. Who had taken it upon themselves to introduce us to any town member in the near vicinity. I had lost count of the number of polite smiles and back handed comments from society ladies.

"Forgive my ignorance but how long do events like this usually last?" I asked, swirling the sparkling liquid around my glass in boredom.

"Your guess is as good as mind." Edward replied, frowning into his drink like it had offended him.

The four of us had been standing in the same spot since introductions had been given earlier this eve, it was clear to see the wary humans giving us a wide birth. Not helped by the ridiculously close community and their suspicions towards newcomers. But as long as we charmed with the correct conversations, made generous donations to the town hall, I'm sure even we could fit into the bazaar little town.

"Perhaps we should try to mingle?" Esme said, her voice just audible over the live music being played on the raised stage. Carlisle nodded in agreement, taking her full glass and placing the two on an empty table.

"Care to join."

Edward shook his head. "I'm quite familiar with everyone." He said pointing to his temple, clearly exasperated with the thoughts of the room.

"Go have fun." I smiled. "If I leave Edward I'm afraid I'll come back to find him married to an old spinster." Unbashfully linking our arms to prove a point, and making sure any females in the room knew he was with me. Because it really wasn't the spinsters I was concerned about.

"Alright I will leave you under Isabella's protection then Edward." Carlisle chuckled. Had we not been under the confined of such a social event, I would have punched him. Lightly of course.

His golden eyes gave the room one last sweeping gaze, but for the most, people avoided looking in our direction. "But I doubt we will be too long." He muttered. Esme, in turn, placed her hand upon his forearm, giving him a sweet smile. It seemed to give him enough courage, for they were soon lost to the sea of people. There was no denying the two were prefect for each other.

"Under your protection eh?" Edward whispered not a moment later.

"Why do you have a problem with that?" I replied.

"No, not at all. But…" He took the glass flute from my hand, discarding the two on the tray of a conveniently passing server. His hands then threaded their way through mine, pulling us closer until we were almost chest to chest. "I'd much rather be the one protecting you." He murmured softly. One hand moved to rest on my lower back, the other stayed clasped in mine. Until it merely looked as though we were dancing.

"Why do I have admirers in the room?" I teased, trying to see around his broad shoulders. Only to feel them tense up beneath my hand, as he placed his body in front of mine effectively cutting off my view.

"You have admirers where ever you go. I'm just making sure they know I'm the luck one." He replied. And I'd be damned if I didn't swoon just a little.

"Oh I'm sure they know by now." I giggled, noting several of the once lingering gazes had turned away. "And your hardly lucky, having someone as high maintenance and standoffish as me around."

"All part of your charm love." He murmured into my hair, swaying us in time with the music.

Although I wouldn't call them charms, I preferred personal quirks. For example even though Edward and I had decided to share a room, it had been me that had chosen the room and the colour scheme. The style of furniture and the fabrics on the upholstery. He allowed me to do whatever I wanted without qualm or query; except for the raised brows at the pink velvet curtain sample.

Mostly that was to see how far I could push it.

But I hadn't been a total heartless tyrant in my ways. Half my wardrobe was currently being stored in one of the spare rooms, allowing Edward to place his belongings alongside mine. And he did admit the room I chose was by far the superior choice, boasting a grand view of the green lawn and wilderness outback. Esme had already shown herself to be a dab hand in the garden, the plant boarders were beautiful, carefully constructed with species I had never heard of.

Now blooming since the weather had turned in early July, since then there had been an abundance of sunshine and cloudless days. And although it was nice not having to dry my boots next to the fire after every hunt, the warm weather could be a damn right hindrance. Prolonged days of balmy blue skies meant it was impossible for us to even venture into town or Rochester. Carlisle had been forced to take the grave yard shifts at the hospital, or scare the patient's silly with an indecent amount of sparkling.

Vampire speed and agility I could handle, but shimmering like a piece of jewellery on display at Tiffany's, I could not.

Then again with the amount of scars and blemishes I sported I was more like a jewellery reject. But at least they were almost invisible to the human eye, putting a stop to any awkward questioning that may have otherwise come my way.

We were _lucky_ the annual town celebrations had been changed from an afternoon luncheon to formal evening party, one that we were able to attend. A gathering we had been in attendance for far too long. "Please tell me this will be over soon." I moaned. Pressing my forehead against the lapels of Edward's suit jacket, pretending it was just the two of us and the sea of humans didn't exist.

"Soon." I felt the vibration of his laugh. "Carlisle's about to make an excuse for us to leave."

"Oh thank god. The longer this goes on the more these people are beginning to resemble food stocks. And I'm not in the mood to snack on a human when there are perfectly good bears ambling around the state park."

"Still not forgiven that bear then."

"No." I mumbled vengefully.

As the latest; slightly wobbly, rendition of a classic came to an end, and I came to the realisation parties weren't what they used to be. Carlisle and Esme departed from the crowd looking more than ready to depart the occasion, no doubt ready to think of some elaborate excuses for the next time an invite even drifted our way.

"Right." Carlisle announced. "Let's leave before I am forced to give any more on the spot check-up." He ran his hand through his white blonde hair, consciously looking behind for a possible human ambush. And those older societally ladies did look to be on the prowl tonight, thank goodness he had Esme. She may have been kind by nature, but she had a glare that could put many a person in place.

So as inconspicuously as possible we slipped passed the dancing couples and gossiping collectives, making an award worthy exit. The only person to even notice us leaving was one well made up blonde, who made it her personal mission to belittle me with an icy gaze after we almost collided. I used to eat people like her, so I deemed myself one up.

"I feel I need to brush up on my meaningless small talk." I declared on the short walk back to the house, slowed significantly by the long trained dress that I was manually forced to hike up.

"Oh I don't know Isabella. That old lady seemed mightily impressed when you complimented her apple pie." Carlisle said, referring to the moment I had gotten too close to the buffet table and been force fed pie by a little old lady with pin curls.

"Please let's not mention that." I groaned, feeling the weight of my _meal_ sitting uncomfortably in my stomach. "Thanks for rescuing me Esme. She'd probably made me eat the whole thing otherwise."

"You're welcome dear. Although she was quite persistent she'd bake you another one sometime."

"Say I'm sick, always say I'm sick."

As the groupings of houses began to thin and the party music well behind us, home neared closer. The familiar edge of town post box lingered with its large dent and flaky blue paint, most probably no longer used for post but instead a home for wild life. Beyond that the almost hidden entrance to the drive.

Merely moments later I was shedding my shoes in the hall way, flicking them haphazardly onto the bottom step. Before taking the steps two at a time and almost falling through the bedroom door in my haste. Jewellery found its way back into designated boxes, as hand fulls of pins and barrettes came from my hair.

"You will be glad to know Carlisle has gotten us out of another event." Edward said, leaning oh so casually against the door frame.

"Another one?" I quizzed, tossing a clean white shirt and breeches from the linen hamper. He nodded, uncrossing his arms and closing the door softly behind him. In one swoop picking up the clothes I had littered on the floor, before taking a heavy seat upon the end of the bed.

"Yes, some engagement party for the mayor's niece." He said. "You remember that delightful blonde who tried to run you down." Continuing when I looked blank after the first explanation.

"Oh." I replied rather lamely. Well if someone like Blondie could get married I suppose there was hope for us all, not that I was in a hurry. I mean that ring still lurking at the bottom of my jewellery box was an uncomfortable omen at best.

The humans seemed to deem it as a final point, but then again for most that was the partner you were going to spend the rest of your mortal lives with. So I guess it was no wonder there were elaborate ceremonies that took months of preparation; or even years, the rest of your life depended on it.

But we weren't humans. And I had no previous concept of my own views on the matter, I didn't know if marriage had been important to me. Yet the idea I guess being legally bound to a person must be...kind of nice. For our kind that was accepting your mate to be the very person you were to spent the rest of your life with, forever; being an infinite amount of time was not something to be taken lightly. And if you didn't know of that person the notion was terrifying.

Yet the idea of spending an eternity with Edward...was a pleasant thought.

Realising I had been thinking for far too long and a silence had descended; I could only mentally admonish myself. Mangling my sentence and stalling after such a topic was a cause for discomfort. And as the pause continued to linger without word or breathe, my annoyance grew at how awkward it had become. I could feel his gaze hotly on me as I continued to dress down, rehanging the gown and taking the upmost caution not to crease it. Trying to act casual and brush it off.

"Not the friendliest of people." I managed to choke out finally, quickly turning to retrieve my designated hunting clothing.

Without even asking he passed them to me, flashing a small smile. "She was merely envious." He said, helping to roll up the sleeves of my shirt even though I was perfectly capable and had tried unsuccessfully to swat him away. But there was a mental sigh of relief and hoped he would just peg it down to overly focused attention towards my dress.

"Right." I announced loudly, clapping my hands together for added effect. "Hurry up and change, or I shall go without you." Deciding I was serious with my threat he eventually moved and finally the heavy atmosphere dissipated. I was just happy the topic of the foolish blonde and her impending nuptials was over for good. If I never saw her again it would be far too soon

….

The fact that this chapter is over two thousand words is a miracle; there was no middle plot so I feel it's kind of messy. But I'm desperate to get to the interesting bits!

So drop us a line, or two.


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven : Qua Vehiculum

_The date for this update was circled on my Calendar like a bad omen, slowly getting closer and closer. And with a week to go and only the words 'Chapter Twenty Seven' written I wanted to cry a little. But then all you lovely readers left me some encouraging words, so I put on my big girls pants and began to bloody type. Low and behold another character wrote themselves into the chapter._

_So thanks very much for the reviews, alerts and favourites. It really does give me a needed kick to get going. _

_But once again I don't own the rights to the Twilight Saga. _

Chapter Twenty Seven : Qua Vehiculum

February 13th 1932

"I knew we should have gotten a Cadillac." I muttered angrily. Slamming the door of the Model A Ford harder than necessary, causing the whole vehicle to shake violently.

Bellowing through the gaps in the curved bonnet and silver grill, great clouds of smoke poured from the motorcars engine. Followed closely by the scent of burning rubber, the hiss of escaping steam and the slow death of the car.

"I've had a more reliable pair of silk stockings, than this piece of junk." I growled. My foot connected with the tire arch with little hesitation, and adding a brash dent to the list of problems.

"Is there anything we can do to fix it?" Esme asked, stepping down from the passenger side and giving the fog of smoke a rather apprehensive look.

I shook my head. "I can change a tire but that's about as far as my knowledge of cars extends." We both gazed at the hunk of metal before us, and then exchanged looks of exasperation at our current stranded situation. With several inches of snow underfoot, and plummeting temperatures forecast for the past days, the motorcar had stood little chance. The first frost covered morning bought about the freezing of the engine, and unattractive spluttering noises as it refused to turn over. So it had been conveniently housed in the garage, covered with a canvas tarpaulin to keep out the cold. It had received better treatment than the homeless in the Rochester.

Yet upon returning from a trip to Buffalo; to retrieve documents from a less than savoury character, and to take advantage of a whole new shopping district. The blasted thing had given up half way from home.

The deserted road was paved with nothing but bare dirt and snow, and as far as the eye could see there were white fields and gatherings of leafless trees. Torrents of swirling wind picked up the powdery precipitation and deposited it haphazardly upon every surface, including both Esme and myself.

"Looks like were on foot from here." Esme said, knocking her knuckles against the motorcar door.

With everything relatively important stuffed into one bag, and the cars keys lost to the depths of my coat pocket. We reluctantly parted ways from the sheltered metal box, heading eastwards down the road. Setting a feeble human pace until there was more tree cover.

"I'm going to make Edward walk all the way back at human pace." I declared. Tightening the mauve colored scarf around my neck, effectively stopping the snow falling between the gaps.

"I believe Carlisle would also enjoy the walk." Esme grinned.

Both; having not wanted to join us on our trip to buy new winter coats, had stayed at home. But promised the car was in good working order, and the chain bound tires would be fine on the icy roads. Granted not the case. And now we both ambled along a bleak empty road, like two damsels in distress. Also granted not the case.

"We should have learnt our lesson from the last time we purchased a Ford. The old model T was un-drivable between November and March, not to mention the reversing up hills issue." I mused aloud. Shaking my feet between steps to rid them of the snow, and unavoidable white salt marks when they dried.

"Maybe we should get our own motorcar?... You know girls only."

I'm sure I bumbled my stepping a little before catching my feet. "Does Carlisle know you're this crafty?" I questioned slyly. "Because if not, I could sure use a partner in crime….Oh and we should consider getting a Packard as our vehicle of choice."

"Well of course dear, someone has to keep those boys in line." She replied, reaching for my arm and looping us together. "What happened to Edward being your partner in crime?"

I pouted my lips "I realized he's a boy. And when I talk about new dress patterns he's not actually paying any attention."

"I do believe that it is recurring theme amongst males." She smiled, maneuvering us around a particularly bad patch of black ice and back onto the makeshift grass sidewalk. There was something so very satisfying about walking on frozen greenery, be it the crunch beneath your feet or its anti-slip surface.

But no sooner had I secured my feet on relatively solid ground, did the wind change direction. Blowing powdered ice from the hedge rows directly towards us, we could only bow our heads and hold onto our hats for cover. "Goodness I take back everything I said about the summer weather. I forgot just how much I detest the snow." I groaned, unsuccessfully trying to shake the white flakes from my coat before they melted. "Not only does everything I wear get soaked, but all the decent food goes into hiber-"

"Do you smell that?" She whispered quickly, her arm locking tightly against mine as we came to a stoic stop.

Ignoring the snow blowing in my face, I inhaled a deep breath of bitter cold air. Filtering through the background scents of our surrounding, and it was then I came across something familiar and very much unexpected.

Further down the dirt road; interrupting the horizon of flat farm land, loomed the beginning of Letchworth State Park and its great evergreen forest. Between the smell of pine needles came the faint scent of camomile, slowly getting stronger as the origin came closer through the trees.

"Wait." Esme muttered, her brows pulled into a look of confusion. "Is that-"

"Yes." I announced. "I do believe this is what you would call an unannounced visit… Why does no one feel the need to write anymore?"

Through the frozen foliage our intruder made their less than graceful entrance, cursing and blinding as snow fell upon them from the branches above. It seemed even living in such cold climates as she did, was still not enough preparation for the inconvenience of icy precipitation. She continued to barrage her way out of the trees, ignorant to us as we watched the scene.

Eventually she found her way to the track, stamping her feet on solid ground and flicking brash blonde hair behind her with an indignant huff. "Bloody snow." She muttered.

"Oi Dollface way to make a spectacle of yourself." I yelled from down the lane. Laughing when her golden eyes widened, and head snapped to the side in complete surprise. Not one to be outdone she straightened up, placing a pale hand on her jutting hip, and a haughty smirk on her lips.

"Well, well look who it is. The British bin." Came Tanya's sharp reply.

"How long did it take you to come up with that one blondie?" I replied, mirroring her stance as she sauntered up the road towards us.

"Oh I don't know…..try ten years." She sneered, now standing only yards from Esme and myself, a blustering wind blowing between us.

"Touché."

But thinking Tanya would drop it was a foolish thing to presume, with four long strides of her puma like legs she stood before me. Gazing down from her height advantage with a blank expression, before her palm met the skin of my face. Although she was kind enough not to use her talon like nails, it still bloody hurt. And the sound emitted from the contact was explosive.

"Isabella." Esme cried, about to run in between us.

"It's alright Esme." I smiled, absently rubbing my cheek. "Tanya promised me a good slap the next time we met….. It's good to see you again bitch, sorry it's been so long."

"Too long." She huffed, pulling me tightly into a friendly embrace.

"But slap me again and I'll kick your arse." I whispered in her ear, giving her blonde hair a sharp tug to reinforce my point.

"I'd expect no less from you." We pulled apart sharing a smirk at being reunited in such an odd way, and I wondered if this was what having a sister was like. Slinging insults at each other like normal banter.

It was during my time drinking illegal alcohol in Erie where Tanya was really missed, her love of Jazz music and seducing human males would have proven great entertainment. There had been several times I had considered writing to her during my nomadic period, but had never plucked up the courage to do so.

I watched as she greeted Esme, apologizing about the violence, before swapping hugs. "I was planning on hitching a ride when you drove past…but you seemed to have misplaced your car." She explained, looking behind us as if expecting the vehicle to appear.

"I'm afraid we had to part ways with it." Esme divulged.

"Part ways after it decided to give up and die." I muttered, gazing back down the road in irritation, with the hopes my hatred for technology would travel. But the sound of an approaching car engine and Tanya's less than appropriate outdoor clothing choice, made the call of home even more alluring. "Let's go. There's no way I'm thumbing a ride."

"Yeah I don't think Edward would be too happy if you got kidnapped by a psychotic human male." Tanya grinned. Skillfully stealing both my hat and scarf in one quick swoop, as we ran through the tree line and into the state park.

"Speaking from experience?" I smirked, managing to avoid her hands as they attempted to steal my woolen gloves straight from my pocket.

"What can I say psychotic males have good taste." I could only roll my eyes as she proceeded to sashay ahead.

"So have the rest of your brood come for a visit." I wondered aloud. Wishing they had written before hand, and given me enough notice to remove my stuff from the spare rooms. Esme's home maker tendencies were probably thinking the exact same thing.

"Afraid not." Her face suddenly molding into a despondent pout. "Irina's gone and found herself a beau." She announced sarcastically.

"Goodness." Esme replied carefully, clearly not quite sure how to respond to Tanya's clear disgruntlement at Irina's new mate. Just imagining one of the Denali sisters with a male counterpart was…odd, it was like they had an eternal bachelorette pact. I could see why Tanya was unhappy with the turn of events.

"So…he's a newborn?" I questioned, readying myself for the onslaught of negative comments and preparing my own.

"Nope." She soured. "He's been at this game for a while, but seems to be having trouble converting to our diet." I looked at her incredulously.

"Now, now I don't have a problem with that." She held her hands up in mock surrender. "We've all been there. But when he tries to convince my sister to abandon her diet and coven, I'm going to get fucking mad."

"Oh my." Came Esme's response.

"The little bastard." I declared.

"Bastard indeed." Tanya sniffed. "Of course Irina's not stupid enough to leave, so he's trying to convert again. But I will be damned if I have to listen to another moment of his incessant moaning. Hence my unplanned visit. Kate decided to stay behind to make sure he didn't try and make a run for it, and luckily Carmen and Eleazar agreed to come along with me." She finished.

"Want me to come to Alaska and scare him shitless?"

"See." She clapped. "This is why I have missed you; nobody threatens like you do."

"I…try." I replied, not really sure if that was a compliment, or something to be particularly proud of.

The rest of the journey home was relatively quiet, only permeated by Tanya and I throwing the occasional clump of snow at each other. And it was not long until the forest disappeared and we were forced to slow; carefully following the river, mindful of the occasional human dwellings. Eventually arriving home due south to avoid the center of Geneseo and prying neighbors.

But standing idly on the porch; with his arms crossed, next to Carlisle, Eleazar and Carmen was my own beau. Looking mightily confused at our scenic approach, and simply asked.

"Where the hell's the car?"

….

_Yay chapter twenty seven complete. And Tanya's back. I always read stories where she's the mate stealing whore, but I always kind of liked her. After being around for such a long time, she must be kind of kick ass. _

_Camomile or chamomile: a flower related to the daisy family and native to Western Europe. So I felt it a good choice to describe Tanya and her own European heritage. _

_Drop us a line._


	29. Chapter Twenty Eight: Pins and Dolls

_Ok so I set myself a challenge of trying to write five hundred words a day, in between work and trying to find a decent house to move into next year. I think it was quite successful…well it's before the deadline so I am deeming it a success. _

_Thanks toT3rribl3Tw0s0m3 your review was so great, its rekindled my love for my own story. So I guess that also helped this chapter get out a little quicker. _

_Also thanks to BadassEri90 you review made me so happy. You recognised everything I have tried to include in the story, sometimes I wonder my ideas are actually coming through or it's all in my head. (Because sometimes that happens.) _

_Not forgetting all those others who have reviewed. Much gratitude to you. _

_Disclaimer, I don't own the Twilight Saga but that's probably obvious by now. _

Chapter Twenty Eight: Pins and Dolls 

February 18th 1932

"Oh I love this one." She gushed, holding the short, shimmery dress to her body. "It's so beautiful." Her hands ran down the fitted waist line; over the multitude of tiny hand sew glass beads that covered almost the entirety of the garment. "Please tell me you displayed this on a night out."

"Of course." I grinned. Lounging lazily on the bedspread as Tanya riffled through the cherry wood armoire, in search of something sparkly. "That very item sparked my love for the department store." I confessed. Turning over and gazing at her upside down, with my feet propped on the bed spindles. "And not to mention access to a few… illegal venues."

""Then it's official." She announced, tossing the garment onto the back of the chair and prancing towards me.

"You and I are going to dress real doll and find a nice jazz bar."

I rolled my eyes. "Unless you have forgotten, I'm trying to make a decent impression on the people of Rochester."

"Oh please." She threw a passive wave in my direction. "The sooner they realize you're a bitch, the better."

"Remind me why we're friends again?" I replied dryly.

"Come on Bella" She begged. "We will have so much fun." To further emphasize her nagging ways she clasped her hand together. And I wasn't sure if she was looking for intervention from a higher force or just trying to appear pitiful. But either way I found myself agreeing.

"And besides I highly doubt anyone from this jumped up little town will go anywhere near_ that_ side of Rochester." She summarized, leaning down and tapping me twice on the forehead. "Just think you and I on a rambunctious night out, perhaps catching the attention of a male or two?"

"You know, somehow I don't think Edward's going to like that." I confessed, rolling back upright and absently twirling a strand of hair around my finger. Somehow I couldn't see him being open to the idea.

"Damn I forgot about that little road block."

"Road block?"

Tanya sighed, falling dramatically upon the bed and next to me. "It seems everyone has decided to pair off." She pouted.

Over the past few days it had become apparent Tanya had not taken a sabbatical due to an incessantly moaning male, but a desire to put some distance between her and her newly smitten sister. A relationship I was quite sure even a self-proclaimed succubus desired. She had told me now Kate had become obsessed with a nomadic male that kept appearing in their territory, the two people she had been with for centuries had now become distant.

"He's out there." I said, nudging her shoulder with my own. "But you know how life sometimes gets in the way, especially when you're immortal. Then one day when you least expect it…..bam."

"Bam?"

"Unfortunately that was what actually occurred for me, hopefully yours will be a little more…..metaphoric." I grasped. "But just think, now both Kate and Irina are paired off you don't have to worry about them. Because I know you do."

She nodded. "Time to be a little selfish perhaps?" I prompted.

"When the hell did you become so great at prophesying about love?" She giggled, stealing the tie from around my wrist and beginning to plait her own hair. Leaving me to wonder if she had also been a pickpocket in her past life.

"No bloody idea….perhaps my own immortality?" I summarized haughtily. Snapping the hair tie against her arm in a sign of formal protest at her plundering ways, instead of reacting she kept an expectant gaze upon me until I confessed. "Ok maybe trashy romance novels, radio shows…. and a bit of human watching was also involved."

"A bit?"

"A tad." I acknowledged, gesturing the small amount with my thumb and index finger. The space growing when she cocked her brow. "Fine the humans are responsible for everything I know about love. Happy."

"Exceedingly." She laughed. "Humans may be strange creatures but they have a knack for romance. Even I can recognize that." She was not wrong, sometimes one forgot the most epic tales of love were crafted and lived out by the mortals. They easily formed attachments to others of their kind, and unlike us could become infatuated with more than one person. So it was feasible they had more experience than the vampire race when it came to finding the ideal mate.

"But humans are still strange." I mused aloud.

"Do you realise both you and I refer to them as almost a separate species." Tanya stated, bending her finger tips together in an almost maniacal way.

"They are. Aren't they? We're pretty much set for eternity, while they have seventy years. Give or take." Came my own slightly blunt reply.

"Well technically yes." She began combing her fingers through the tangled mess of my hair, before twisting odd strands and pinning them upwards. Unhappy with what she had created proceeded to take it apart and start a French crown plait. "But don't you think we….I mean those of us who have lived as human drinkers, feel differently about them." She stopped for a second, listening for any sounds in the house, continuing when nothing could be heard. "Take Carlisle, Esme, hell even Carmen and Eleazar. They have all spent the considerable proportion of their immortality as animal drinkers."

"Yeah" I replied quizzically.

"When they speak about the humans…their so tolerable. Slipping up is soul destroying for them. But me….it's just a hazard. I feel more remorse towards letting the family down than the human victim." She confessed.

"Do you want to know the real reason I conformed back to this diet?" I responded.

Tanya nodded slowly, her lip caught between her teeth.

"Because of this coven. I wanted to belong to this family. Yes I felt sorry for the people I killed, but if it wasn't for the Cullen's I would probably still be drinking human blood with little remorse….God that makes me sound terrible." I laughed weakly.

"No I think it just makes us incredibly loyal to our covens." She declared with an air of finalization, daring me to contradict her and suffer a verbal beating. "No more talking about this. Let's end the depressing route this conversation has taken."

I nodded in agreement; the best I could considering her fingers were still feverishly cultivating my hair into a style. As much as I loved spending time with Tanya and her slightly outrageous personality, I began to crave the solitude of reading a good book or just being alone for a little while. Actions that always seemed a little rude when hosting company.

"All done." She chirped, patting the uncooperative strands of hair down and deeming it a success. From the bed she jumped up with Tanya like vigour, marching across the room and flinging open the window. "Right that should rid us of any lingering depression."

I chose to ignore the snow that had blown off the window ledge and was now saturating the carpet. "Now." She hustled. "Let's discuss me being your maid of honour."

"What?" I questioned, all but falling from my perch in shock.

"Because I've already spied this really pretty dress in lavender, which really could be a-"

"Tanya stop! There is no wedding to plan."

"Not yet.."

"Not ever.."

"Really not ever? But you two are so….compatible."

"Look." I huffed slightly embarrassed. "Maybe 'not ever' is a little strong….but we haven't even spoken about something like that. So can we just drop it? Please."

"Sorry B I didn't mean to ruffle your feathers, it's just you and piano boy took so long finally become a couple. Everyone wants you to be happy."

"We are happy, regardless of marital status. But if it does hap-"

"When it does." She interrupted, pointing a talon like nail in my direction.

"When it does." I corrected. "You will be first to know via letter, or telephone if our wilderness locations ever get hooked up to the switch board."

"I'll await each letter with baited breath." She declared, dramatically throwing her hand across her forehead. "And before you take that plunge into holy matrimony, you and I shall adorn our finery and party in an illegal bar in celebration."

"You got yourself a deal Dollface."

"Pin's and Dollface back together for another epic adventure."

"Pin's?" I questioned, gesturing to my slightly short stature. "Are you mocking me?"

"Hey you may have a short torso, but your legs are like a freaking wild cat."

"They are?"

"Yeah I can definitely see what Edward sees in you, long legs and a good bust-"

"Oh lord." I groaned, covering my eyes in an attempted to remove the image of Tanya making the ample breast gesture at me. "Please let's not talk about my bust."

* * *

><p>"Nice day for a hunt." Tanya commented off handily, tapping the toe of her leather boots against the porch steps.<p>

"To bad there is nothing decent to hunt." I replied. Jumping down from the decking and imprinting my feet into the snow, before walking around the garden to spoil the pristine white. Happy I had got there before anyone else.

"Clearly amused by the simplest things." Tanya snorted. I fought the urge to retaliate with an unladylike profanity, but reined in my sailor's mouth and stuck out my tongue instead. She rolled her black eyes in my direction, before taking off like a bullet into the trees with me close behind.

"Come on which way to the food stocks?"

"Letchworth is the closest area. But I'll warn you in advance, deer and elk is the best it's going to get." I said, catching up to her side and gestured wildly in the direction of the state park. "Oh and keep your eyes open for the others."

She looked blankly at me for a second. "See this is why I live in Alaska, I walk out my door and straight into decent hunting ground. No travel needed."

"Yes but Alaska is cold and snowy."

"It doesn't always snow." She replied smartly.

"Seems like it." I muttered quietly.

We carried on in relative silence , trying to out run each other in our on-going competiveness. But only succeeding in knocking down small trees, trampling shrubbery and scaring away any wildlife. Along the field hedge rows we blurred, jumping gracefully over fence stys and staying out of view. Avoiding gazing cattle, the occasional farms, and trying to persuading Tanya it was not much further.

"God there are vampire trails everywhere." She muttered as soon as we passed the park boundaries, sniffing the air in obvious distaste.

"You think this is bad. Edward and I took a trip to Allegheny Forest, that place is like a bloody vampire highway. It's part of the Pennsylvania forests, so I guess it's easy access from the coast to the lakes. No actual vampires living there though. I'm sure word got round the Volturi were in the area a couple of years ago, not many are foolish to linger."

"Except the Cullen's"

"As long as Carlisle has a good relationship with them it's perfectly acceptable. After all it is better to be the devil's right hand than in his path."

"True. But does the devil really need to send out large portraits of himself? It's terribly unnerving."

"Why do you think we make Carlisle keep it in his office? He tried to hang it in the hall and got an ear full from Esme." We shared a coil smile at just how much _influence_ female vampires had over their counterparts.

"Right." Tanya declared suddenly, feet shoulder width apart and hands on hips. "I'm off to sample what New York has to offe-"

"To late their mine!" I yelled, darting past her and towards the strong scent of animal in the air. The sounds of her verbal profanities ringing behind, but as soon as the smell of deer blood saturated my senses and the thumping of a thriving heart could be heard. Nothing but hunting mattered.

The first to quench my thirst was an old weak specimen, easily picked off from the group as it lagged behind. Colliding with its ailing body bought it quickly to the ground, and soon my teeth were ripping through fur and flesh to find the jugular. The second kill was a little harder, now aware of my stalking the herd were moving swiftly along the river and towards the denser trees. But they were not clever enough to save themselves from my tree top advantage; an attack from above took down a large male.

But as I slowly sucked the blood from a gaping neck wound, I became acutely aware I was being watched. As my eyes flicked upwards they caught the form of a female vampire bolting away, in a blur of glowing crimson eyes and fiery red hair. Heading straight towards Tanya, the deer carcass was cast away as I gave chase.

* * *

><p><em>This chapter doesn't have a Latin title, one because there really isn't a good translation for it, and two I'm running out of phrases. I also think I quoted 'The Mummy'….. That's obviously historically inaccurate but I'm sure there must have been similar phrase back then. <em>

_Drop us a line or two._


	30. Chapter Twenty Nine: Cinnamomum et Confl

_I have reached the seventy thousand mark…can't quite believe it. And managed to get this chapter turned around quite quickly, all thanks to reviews and living back at home where meals are provided. I have decided to start thanking reviewers, because someone did it to me and it made me feel happy (easily pleased.)_

_Thanks to celebritystar when you said my grammar was top notch I think I cried a little (in happiness.) I try super hard to make it that way, but sometimes the rules of English grammar fly out the window. And I tend to make up stuff._

_And thanks to_ _brebrelovesyou gotta love a bit of encouragement, hope this chapter is out quick enough for you._

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Twenty Nine: Cinnamomum et Confligo<span>

Red flashed time and time again in my vision as the female vampire darted through the trees, evading my attempts to stop her route towards Tanya or human civilisation. Each step she took was calculated with precision, a zigzagging pace that forced me over obstructions and dangerously close to the gorge edge. I wasn't arrogant enough to believe this was going my way; the female was faster than I and was quickly gaining ground.

But fortune did fall my way when the gorge took a hair pin bend, forcing her to jump the fifty foot gap. The unfamiliarity of the terrain meant she was unprepared for the leap; and only just managed to clear it, stumbling up the rocky edge. I took my chances at her fumbling mistake, landing a good ten yards from ahead of her. Dipping into a familiar crouch, lips pulled back across venom coated teeth.

"State your business." I hissed, flexing my fingers in anticipation for a good fight. She did not respond instead grinned coly, before lunging towards me talons out stretched for my neck. I managed to side step her first blow, moving behind her position to lop off a limb; or head if I was lucky. But her elbow successfully hit my sternum, throwing me precariously off balance and towards the ground. It was only the reflective move of my arms trying to break the fall that managed to propel me back into the upright position, with enough power to hit the female head on and send her to the ground. Hands wrapped serpentine around her neck.

She looked around wildly, suddenly smiling when she saw something to my right.

I didn't have time to react as a force hit the side of my body, throwing me haphazardly away from my grip on the red heads neck and against a nearby tree. The impact shattering the bark and sending out hundreds of knife sharp splinters, half shredding my clothes on the process. Slightly dazed by the unexpected impact, I wobbled to my feet trying to regain my focus.

Standing in a dipped stance merely yards from me was another vampire. A male. But unlike most male vampires he held no defining features or handsome qualities that most were gifted with, the word _average_ sprung to mind.

A narrow pale sallow face, with rather small crimson eyes. Lank dirty blonde hair tied at the nape of his neck, with some fabric that had undoubtedly come from the torn white shirt he wore. An unremarkable build.

But it was the predatory slant of his eyes, the cold and vacant look they had, that sent a shivering omen along my spine. His long bony fingers flexed, and his lip twitched into a half smirk.

"Quite the specimen aren't you." He leered, ignoring the angry hiss that rumbled from his females lips.

"What the hell do you want?" I growled in warning, the advantage no longer falling in my favour. I hoped they would underestimate me; perhaps give me chance to pull out some rusty moves, before escaping in search of the others.

"Now, now we simply sensed others in the area and became…..curious." He declared, trying to look the picture of innocence. But the cold predatory glaze remain hard in his eyes.

"You are correct. My coven and I have permanent resistance in the area. So we only ask that you refrain from hunting in and around Rochester's boundaries." I clipped, hoping my use of the plural would make them think twice about attacking.

I may not have been the best judge of character, but I wasn't completely stupid.

The couple in front of me were savage looking, wearing a mismatching patchwork of fabrics. A mink fur gilet worn by the female; no doubt once a luxury item of clothing was matted with splattering's of blood and ruined by harsh outdoor living conditions. Around the males neck and wrists were selections of beautifully dainty jewellery pieces, things that once hung upon young wealthy ladies of society. Each time they shimmered and sparkled in the light, bought about a sickening repulsion to my stomach.

Before I received an answer from the less than savoury pair, the familiar scent of chamomile and lavender perfume came barrelling on the wind current. Quickly followed by racing steps and a predetermined snarl that signalled Tanya's arrival on the scene. And the moment her blazing eyes set upon the duo, it was clear this was not friendly reunion.

"You!" She shrieked, chest heaving with exertion and outrage. "How dare you show your face." I was able to place a placating hand upon her forearm, in a feeble attempt to stop her from attacking.

"Tanya. How lovely to see you again." The red headed bitch looked livid as her counterpart openly wanton yet another female.

"Drop the charades you bastard. You don't think I know what you did?" Her voice raising several octaves in distress. "Slaughtering all those humans, drawing attention to my coven for your sins."

"We are vampires that's what we do…. Or have you forgotten?" The fur clad woman spat, her hackles raised for a fight.

"Not when the territory has been claimed." I growled back, itching to have her pale neck back between my hands. "Or have you forgotten the rules. We have given you a verbal warning, if you ignore this warning and hunt upon our land. You are free game."

My legs seemed to buzz in anticipation of a possible fight, it had been a while since I had felt the rush that accompanied a valid kill. But having always known myself to prematurely rush into a fight, I was happy at having remained seemingly calm and orderly. Reciting a Volturi rule was sure to place a little hesitation into their minds.

"Are you foolish enough to break the laws knowing the Volturi have frequently passed through these lands." Tanya sneered.

I watched in satisfaction as the unremarkable male clenched his jaw, the thoughts running through his mind would ultimately decide upon the outcome of our rendezvous. With the odds on the battle field evened out, and two well numbered covens in our favour; who we liked to think would avenge our deaths if such a thing occurred, he would have to consider his options carefully.

"Very well." He drawled. "Come along Victoria. It seemed we have….misinterpreted the territory." He turning around and walked slowly through the path in the trees. It all seemed so very simple, so very civilised. And that was cause for concern. He seem to admit defeat so easily, even his bitch seemed surprised by the lack of despondency.

Victoria faltered at first. Her crimson eyes raked over us one last time, before half her leer lifted into a knowing smile and she took off after her mate.

"Call me a bad judge of character, but did that smile seem a little…dubious?" I confessed, wrinkling my nose at the fiery smell of cinnamon that still lingered from Victoria's presence.

"Something's not right." Tanya muttered. "James is not the type to simply give up."

"What do you mean?" I questioned, moving closer to her trembling frame.

"He's sadistic. Picks a human target, lets them run, and then hunts them down. The three of them hunted down a female near Anchorage-"

"Three?"

"Laurent's previous coven."

"Bloody hell." I replied, this was turning out like one of those over dramatic radio shows.

"We got involved told them the land was claimed, but James was unrelenting. Tried to attack Kate when she went out alone, lucky there happened to be another nomadic male in the area who intervened."

"Her nomad?"

"Yep the very same one. After Garrett- that's his name- managed to stave them off we thought they were gone for good. That was until Laurent turned up on our door step a month later, like a lost fucking puppy. Saying he was intrigued by our way of life." She spat angrily, clenching her fists together. "Told us everything about both James and Victoria. How he had this six-sense for finding his victims and her enhanced ability for self-preservation, a tag team who lived for the thrill of a good hunt."

"Shit." I mumbled.

"Exactly. When he found out the female he was hunting had evaded him, the two of them slaughtered a small town near to us. Why do you think the Volturi came to the continent?"

"That was because of them?" I asked disbelievingly.

Tanya nodded. "Yep. And it looks like something around here as caught his eye, he will not give up on a new target without a fight. Laurent told me they once pursued a female living in a psychiatric asylum, even being surrounded by humans twenty four seven was no deterrent for him. Just another obstacle in his sick little games."

"I think we need to make sure they leave the area then." I uttered forcefully. "Try and meet up with the others and explain what's happening."

"You're right. But Bella?"

"What?"

"You look like shit." She smirked.

I gazed down confused, only to find the remnants of my shirt and the unfortunate view of my lace brassiere. "Oh fuck." At least my breeches were still intact. With a little bit of ingenuity and rearrangement, I was able to tie the remaining fabric in a knot around my bust. Saving the small amount of dignity I had. "Let's go."

With enough distance between them and us, the wind in our favour, and tracks to follow, we had the advantage in following their route. They continued to travel south west along the river banks; and whether it be unfortunate for us or them, continuing to head straight towards the hunting ground used by the other half of our group. We had speculated them to move west towards a city like Buffalo, a place impossible for us to track them amongst the human population.

So it became almost expected then to hear the roar of a distant confrontation, and the thunder that accompanied a clash. As we picked up the pace I would bet my life savings Edward and his mindreading abilities were the instigator.

"Oh I hope they leave a piece for me." Tanya growled enthusiastically, stomping carelessly over everything in her way.

Through the silhouettes of the trees it was easy to see the movement of bodies, accompanied by the unmistakeable sound of conflict. Having found a far better route than I through the thick undergrowth, Tanya was first to make her entrance.

With both Carlisle and Edward in the centre of his gaze, James had little time to spot Tanya's lunge in his peripheral vision. Her fingers tangled their way through his dirty blonde locks, and by the simple force caused by her leap his neck stood little chance. There came a great screech as the muscles tore away from bone, an acidic mix of human blood and venom splattered across the snow.

A moment later Carmen, Eleazar and Esme re-joined us, looking a little bit wind swept and with the news Victoria had managed to evade them. But before we could come up with a plan of action, James body had to be disposed of.

"Who's got the fucking matches then?" Tanya grinned. Wiping a smudge of crimson from her cheek, with James head still hanging awkwardly from her fingers.

"Right here." I announced. Pulling a slightly bent pack of matches from my pocket, and tossing her the box. It didn't take long for the three males and Tanya to tear his body into bite size chunks, as Esme, Carmen and I hovered closely watching in morbid fascination.

"Isabella sweetie what happened to your blouse?" Carmen quizzed, pulling the torn sleeve back onto my shoulder.

"There was a tree related incident." I replied.

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><p><em>I was going to allow James to live to see another chapter, but why not let Tanya get her revenge? Running into the mind reading mate of the vampire you just threw into a tree…..it was never going to end well for him. So let's kill him off and deal with Victoria. She always had the better ideas anyway, a far better villain. <em>

_Drop us a line._


	31. Chapter Thirty: Valedico

_This chapter took its damn time forming, and took a back seat to my twenty thousand word dissertation on the pupation of fly larvae on a human corpse…..lovely. But it's out, better late than never I suppose. _

_I'll quickly thank those who reviewed, thanks to LoveMaddy when I asked for reviews you gave me them! And Anastasia, I'm glad it brightens your day. That's one of the nicest comments ever; it definitely helped when all I had was a blank word document. _

_So I still don't own the Twilight Saga, because I dream of failing my Uni course not sparkly vampires. _

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><p><span>Chapter Thirty: Valedico<span>

February 28th 1932

She hadn't come with a bag or any such luggage, in fact only the clothes upon her back. Yet as she continued to force together the sides of the traveling trunk, I began to consider the idea for this visit was fraught with a hidden agenda.

"You sure bought a lot." I muttered, eyeing the bulging leather straps in wonder.

"Of course." She replied. Never looking up, hands still trying to force the metal latches closed. "You try living in the middle of nowhere, not a decent shop for hundreds of miles." Grinning happily when the resounding click of success pervaded the air and her borrowed case finally closed.

It hit the polished wooden floor with a hefty thud, causing the vanity mirror to shudder in its frame and the floorboards to groan.

"You do know you're going to have to carry that all the way to Alaska, don't you?" I pointed.

"Why do you think I bought Eleazar with me?"

"Oh how foolish of me to think otherwise." I stated, rolling my eyes when she stuck out her tongue.

As the moment settled and we both realised this was goodbye for a while, and there came an awkward silence in which we were not sure how to respond. "I guess I'm leaving." Tanya stated quietly. Absentmindedly twirling a strand of her strawberry blonde hair around her index finger, and gazing intently at the ends.

"Yeah." I affirmed into the silence, hoping someone would come into the room and interrupt the tension.

"You will write to me?"

I nodded vigorously. "Of course, I'll even send you care packages if you're good."

She laughed. "I look forward to it…..but do send them even if I'm bad."

The light heartedness dissipated when the farewells of others in the house could be heard. Tanya took a forlorn look around the guest room, a space that had undoubtedly become her own in the past weeks. Many a good prattle and pep talk had occurred within the walls, and we had re-established a relationship that had suffered with prolonged negligence on my part.

"I almost don't want to leave." She whispered, her hand clutching the lapels of her outdoor coat.

"Someone has to keep your rabble in check." I said, trying to tease a smile from her lips. When it only worked to a degree, it was time to bring out the big guns and pull out the sympathy. "You know I'd rather you stay." I confessed nonchalantly.

"What's this? Isabella are you trying to say…. you're going to miss me?" She feigned shock, placing her hand over her heart.

"I'm not repeating myself; it was a onetime sympathetic response. Don't expect it again." I huffed.

She laughed; a hearty distraction, before she made a sneaky move and I found myself, once again, at the receiving end of a _hug_. "I'm going to miss you too, you stupid British bin." I relaxed my uptight stance and gave a reasonable one armed response.

We broke apart, brushing down out clothes in perfect synchronization. "Just so you know, that was also a onetime thing. Savour the moment and don't expect it again." She sassed.

"Noted."

I was quite sure I should have offered to carry her trunk down to the reception room, but if she packed the crap she should carry it. Lucky for her Eleazar took her case without qualms, with one in each hand it looked like Carmen was also taking advantage. Great minds think alike.

"I really don't like leaving you all under such circumstances." Eleazar announced sombrely, giving Carlisle the usual manly handshake of parting.

"That's quite alright, you're needed elsewhere." Carlisle replied, ignoring the stout growl of annoyance from Tanya. Having received a letter from the rest of the Denali coven; regarding yet another slip up from Irina's beau, our guests were now needed back home. To put an unruly man child back in his place. And with no reappearances, or recent tracks from our red headed friend, they rather reluctantly had to leave us.

"If we hear or see anything we shall let you know." Edward announced calmly, trying his hardest to placate their worries.

"We will do the same." Carmen nodded, although I was quite sure it was more to convince herself. I exchanged my farewells with Carmen and Eleazar, wishing them well and Godspeed.

Parting ways as an immortal was probably easier than being a human, unless we got maimed and killed by a rogue vampire the likelihood was we would meet again. And even if one of us was maimed, the people in front of me would undoubtedly end up tearing said rogue vampire to pieces. Limbs missing or not.

But if I for one moment believed my final parting with Tanya would be well mannered, I was kidding myself. She proceeded to sashay down our pebbled drive, in her Tanya like glory. Stopping just before the tree line, and yelling her parting words. "Bella, now you're loaded I will compile a list of thinks I want. Make sure my care package is air mailed; it gets there so much faster than rail… Adieu." And before I could resort with a clever or witty come back she was gone, always able to get the last word in.

"It's nice to see you and Tanya on good terms again." Carlisle chuckled.

"Are friends supposed to take advantage of your kindness? Or should I consider getting new ones?" I questioned. Deliberately bumping into Edward when he made a comment about mates taking advantage.

The four of us traipsed indoors, making sure our shoes were dusted off and no snow was trampled into Esme's recently cleaned rugs. With no guests to play hosts to, I was free to happily lounge on the sofa, reading gothic horror or listening to trashy shows on the wireless. But before I could happily throw myself into the cushioned upholstery of the fainting couch, Carlisle called a family meeting and we all congregated around the imported English oak dining table.

I carefully took the chair Edward had pulled out for me; mindfully the antique beneath me would probably not tolerate my unladylike slouching.

"I received a letter a couple of days ago from the Senior Consultant at the hospital." He began, placing a very official letter upon the table top, complete with the city hospital water mark. "Regarding a job opportunity in Kingsport." With Carlisle appearing to dwell in his mid-twenties, his colleagues were quick to assume he was ambitious and keen to secure himself a better ranking job. Most senior medical practitioners were rather reluctant to let someone of Carlisle's distinction leave their hospital, and so it was usually up to him to find a new job when the time came to move on.

Alas the Senior Consultant in Rochester had clearly recognised his talents being wasted in pathology.

"Waynesville… Ohio?" I questioned. Trying to recall the location of another place with such a name on the large vintage map of the US, currently framed in the drawing room. "Or... North Carolina?"

"North Carolina." Carlisle affirmed. I nodded slowly, mentally attempting to map its geographic location. Although much further south than we had lived before, the climate would be significantly wetter than the central states due to its location above sea level and the dense amount of foliage that made up the Smokies national park. Not to mention the huge expanse of greenery and mountainous topography meant a far better food range.

"When does the job start?" Edward asked, his brow creased with a slight furrow line.

"The physician in Waynesville has given in his notice of retirement, but the job position will not be open for another eighteen months." Carlisle stated, I watched with utter confused as that information seemed to placate Edward's worry. Perhaps he liked living here more than I thought. "But I have not accepted the position, it is merely an open suggestion." He continued, hands clasped loosely on the varnish stained table.

There came a resounding silence as everyone digested the information, it was clear Esme would follow Carlisle to the ends of the earth and vice versa. But she was patiently waiting from a response from Edward and I before voicing her opinion. And with Edward deciding to become momentarily mute, I realised they were waiting on me.

"Sounds like a plan." I confirmed, giving what I hoped was a brilliantly reassuring smile.

"I'm in. Someone has to stop Isabella from eating all the bears in the state." Edward smirked, not even flinching when I kicked him from under the table.

"Is it possible to have my own room in Waynesville?" I replied, my attempts to punch his arm thwarted as he caught my hand and held it to prevent any other slightly violent attempts.

With everyone's agreement to the move, and the uncertainty of Victoria's reappearance still lingering, the idea of leaving the worry behind was enticing. Her sudden disappearance from the area was disconcerting at best, we had expected some sort of retaliation at the death of her mate. Yet nothing.

For the past week we had hunted in groups, an action which bought about its own problems. Vampires preferred to hunt alone, one could hardly let go of their inhibitions and be a stealthy hunter when surrounded by others. The sooner Victoria could be destroyed the better, and we could stop walking around on tenterhooks.

"Well." Carlisle clapped. "Now that's decided upon we can start making formal arrangements…..of course there's no hurry. But I will get in contact with a property broker in Waynesville, they can let us know if anything's available or comes onto the market."

"If you need any…..papers. I know a man in Cleveland who's quite the hand with forgeries." I grinned, flexing my fingers against the table.

Carlisle nodded his head, quietly mulling over the idea. "That may be necessary; everything has become so very official. Is this acquaintance of yours able to acquire…. government documents?"

"Yep." I confirmed. "He's a rather successful attorney by day and a purveyor of illegal documents by night. Has his finger in many metaphorical pies, should be able to get us anything we want."

"Excellent. Can you get in contact with him?"

"I should think so, I'll write to him."

With an organised plan decided upon and the mantle clock chiming out eight tolls, our meeting was adjourned. Into the depths of the house the family dispersed. Esme set about finishing her sewing, a menial task she loathed but was necessary when it came to lifting a hem. Neither of us exactly endowed in the height department. And with strict instructions from Esme, Carlisle was off to take down the lace kitchen curtains; which were to be washed and aired in the utility. Although he didn't look so comfortable with his chore.

"He's thinking of making a shambles of it, so she won't ask him again." Edward whispered, placing his chin on my shoulder.

"Oh really. " I mused. "And you honestly think that will work."

"No. And neither does he." He replied, smiling at whatever outlandish thought Carlisle was having over his dictated house job.

"It's so quiet now." I thought aloud, allowing Edward to lace his fingers with mine and twist me into his embrace. My temple resting against his chest, as we swayed to a non-existent melody.

"You mean peaceful." He corrected, the baritone of his voice rumbled through my body in a soothing notion. "Seems like an age since we've been alone together."

"Hmm." I acknowledged lazily, completely content to remain like this. Safe and blissful, where the worry of a rogue red headed vampire trying to kill me was distant.

"Trying to remove Tanya from your side was like trying to pry a barnacle from a boat." He stated.

"Did you just call Tanya a barnacle?" I questioned, giggling like a tipsy society lady at a charity function. "She's just lonely at the moment and wanted company." I affirmed. "Plus it's not like they visit regularly."

"Another decade or so would be ideal." He muttered.

"You are so mean." I pouted.

"No." He shook his head, tousled bronze hair becoming even messier. "I just don't like sharing you with anyone else." He replied, sending my audacious little pout into a quivering mess.

"You should work for Hallmark with lines like that." I mumbled, feeling an overwhelming lump in my throat and foolish desire to cry at such kind words. When it came to matters regarding Edward I was weak and vulnerable.

"The Hall brothers have nothing on me." He declared. I was to respond with some witty counter, but by the time I had thought of said back talk his lips were already firmly against mine and the topic was lost. Replaced by the awareness it had been far too long since we had last done this. Even consciousness of the rouge upon my lips now smudging and transferring onto his, didn't seem to matter.

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><p><em>This chapter is kind of a mishmash of ideas and scenarios, in the great plot of things. But 1933 is fast approaching and with it the arrival of Rochester's finest bloody bride. <em>

_So reviews appreciated, drop a line._


	32. Chapter Thirty One: A lost Umbrella

_Well I can't quite believe it, one hundred and one reviews. I must say I never thought I would reach the hundred mark. Originally I wanted to read a story that was historically accurate (somewhat) and where Bella was already a vampire, building relationships as each member joined the coven. But because I suck at finding stories and my specifications were just that…specific. I decided to attempt to write my own. _

_And more than a year later, thirty one chapters and 75,000 words later. Here we are._

_So a big thanks to everyone who has reviewed, alerted and favoured since the preface._

_Thanks to Matthias Stormcrow and an unnamed Guest for getting me to the hundred mark, such enthusiastic reviews! _

_Oh and I don't own the rights to the Twilight Saga_

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><p><span>Chapter Thirty One: A lost Umbrella<span>

April 19th, 1932

...

...

..

.

"I'd like three bars of Lux laundry soap and… a pound of salt please." I smiled, watching as the grocer pulled out a stepping ladder and selected my items from the numerous shelves. His long starch white coat engulfing his willowy figure, making him appear so clinical behind his cherry wood counter.

He placed them atop a stack of brown paper, and began to wrap each item individually. Folding down each corner, before securing the bundles with a well guessed length of twine from a great reel.

"That will be... forty four...fifty three cents, please." He responded, slowly typing the numbers into the crank operated cash register. I deposited the coins into his callused palm, mindful of my cold skin against his own. "Filthy day." He conversed idly, placing the coins into their designated spaces as the register let out a shrill ring.

"Ghastly." I replied. "It's a good job I remembered my umbrella."

"Indeed." He chuckled, aiding me in packing my items into Esme's linen shopping bag. Slotted them carefully between letters that needed to be posted, items that Tanya had requested, and a new Seers catalogue for Esme and I to pour through. "Mindful as you go, Miss, my shop awning has sprung quite the leak."

I nodded politely, wished him a good day and good health.

As an elderly woman and her cane motioned to pass through the threshold, I was careful enough to step to one side and hide from her stiff gaze. Following reluctantly behind, in his stiff, itchy white collared bests came a small child. I tried to give the young boy a smile of encouragement, but only succeeded in making him stumble and blush into a display.

Before the old woman had time to turn and scold the boy for 'shuffling his feet', I took my leave from the quaint store. Doing just as the owner had said, minding the drippings from the overhang, and a rain gutter that clearly needed to be cleaned. But upon reaching for my umbrella in the outdoor stand, I realised the ruffle trimmed parasol was not where I had left it. In fact, it was nowhere to be found.

Someone had stolen my umbrella.

With the brooding, dark sky and lashings of rain giving no sign of relenting, I was left standing with a dash or dawdle dilemma. But the pretty pale blue coat I had selected to cover my skirt and ruffled blouse, would not fare well in the downpour. So I could only wait in the hopes that Edward and Esme would finish quickly and come rescue me, and for the time being I was forced to simply stand and gaze on.

I watched the humans struggle in the rain, holding up the hems of their clothing as they walked around puddles. Huddling under black parasols in desperate attempts to avoid the water. Women let out little shrieks, as a particularly strong gust of wind sent the rain under the protection of their hats and coats. For once they were too concerned with staying dry and remaining well-kept to heed me any mind.

And as my eyes drifted along the same unassuming blacks and browns of winter fashion, they began striving for something bright. Locking onto a flash of blonde as it moved with purpose along the street, emerging into the figure of a woman as she came nearer and the crowds thinned. We had met before.

Her narrow face was once again lifted haughtily to the sky, icy blue eyes scanning the surrounding people and belittling them with her human beauty. And for a mortal she had been gifted with a rare polish, men around her may have been allured by her looks but females were surely scorned.

By her side was a rather unassuming female; perhaps her mother or a relative, for they shared the same straight pointed nose and lips. The older woman proceeded to hold a carved handle parasol between them, while still skilfully managing to point towards the lace gowns in the seamstress's window. But the moment the pair were in human range of my current spot, icy blue eyes flicked immediately towards me. She took in my predicament; watching the leaky awning and my umbrella-less situation, before allowing the smallest of sly smiles to twitch at the corner of her lips.

It soon faltered when she caught my eye.

With the tips of my fingers I brushed the fur collar of my coat, all the while keeping contact with her. And from beneath the length of my dark lashes, and down my nose, I gave my best superior gaze. Before lazily raising one brow and turning away.

I could hear her hiss from across the street.

Really now, one should refrain from taking on an immortal.

From my peripheral vision, I watched as she dragged the older woman down the street, ignoring her protests at needing to stop at the butchers. I was wearing triumph in the form of a one sided smile and eagerly bouncing finger tips.

"I have learnt over time that smile can mean only trouble."

"Carlisle, what impeccable timing you have." I exasperated, glad to see him standing before me. "Please say you have room for a small one under your umbrella?" I begged, throwing in a pout for good measure.

He nodded, holding the item closer to the awning and seamlessly bridging the gap between the two. "May I inquire as to where yours has disappeared too?"

"Someone has done away with it." I replied. Carlisle took the shopping bag, allowing me to linking my arm through his as we began to amble down the paved sidewalks. "Why are you here, if you don't mind me asking? Have you fled from work?"

He laughed and shook his head. "No, I did not flee work, my shift ended and I decided to meet my family out in the city."

"So it has nothing to do with the fact Esme's birthday is merely two weeks away?" I teased, nudging my shoulder into his.

"Ah...well I'm not denying that may also be one of the reasons behind my venture." He replied, looking wistfully all the rows of shops that lined the centre of the shopping district. "Any ideas?"

"Sorry, but you're on your own for that one… Although, she and Edward have gone to the jewellers; something about inquiring for watch repairs, perhaps she might see something she likes." I announced, distracted by the Federated Department stores new summer window display.

"Watch repairs?"

"Yes." I nodded, half speculating if the new Dolic shoes were really worth spending nearly two dollars on. "Esme said one of the links has come loose, took Edward as back up to agree a price. I drew the short straw and was sent to the general store. But we agreed to meet at the corner postal office on State Street at- wait what time is it?"

"Ten past three." He responded, checking the face of the expensive pearl enamelled Rolex. Even Carlisle was open to the odd indulgence, after all we were going to be around for a while why not make things comfortable

"Only a couple of minutes late then, not enough to demand a full-scale man hunt." I grinned.

"But enough to warrant Edward's worried pacing."

"Ah, the pacing, shortly followed by the worried running hands through hair and pinching the bridge of his nose. Classic Edward."

"I guess we better hurry then."

With the rain continuing its torrential lashings without so much as a break, the gutters were beginning to resemble small rivers as the cascades flowed towards the drains. In a macabre way it kept the scent and sound of the humans to a minimum.

With their waterproof leather boots on, a group of elementary children took advantage of the giant puddles, kicking and splashing the dirty water till their hearts were surely content. Most people simply gave them a wide birth, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the bespatter.

Perhaps I should have invested in rubber boots. It looked like fun.

"Any news from your acquaintance, the purveyor of documents." Carlisle questioned, dodging us nimbly around a group dawdling at a shop window sale.

"Not yet." I sighed. "However, I did kindly offer to pay him a visit in Cleveland if it made things easier… so I expect a response very soon."

"Let me guess." He gave me his best knowing look, brows slightly raised and a pointed stare. "You weren't overly polite during your last meeting."

I mocked surprise, slapping his arm lightly. "I'm always polite." His brows rose higher. "We just didn't see eye to eye over the price, he was asking for an outlandish amount."

"And you…"

"I may have scared him a little. Nothing that would have jeopardized my façade…. Not that he could go to the authorities; an investigation would have revealed his little… business on the side."

"As long as you were careful."

"Exceedingly." I nodded. "Until I knew he was credible, I introduced myself with a false name. Requested multiple papers under numerous identities, making it pretty impossible for anyone to trace it back to me…..hmm how times have changed."

"Said like a true immortal. No one is trusting enough to take word alone anymore." He smiled wistfully. "That probably makes me sound old."

"Please." I waved my hand in his direction. "You're not that old. You haven't started to petrify in your own skin and your eyes don't have that strange cloudy sheen the Volturi gentlemen do. Practically a child in comparison."

"Compared to the Volturi everyone is a child." He countered.

"Indeed. But I do hope the petrified skin is not a part of the aging process, it's terribly unnerving."

"I shouldn't worry; I do believe it is a side effect of sitting high and mighty for centuries."

"Good to know." I confirmed. "The whole cloudy eye is really very unattractive."

"Duly noted."

With great proficiency to remain dry, we finally made it within range of the postal office. Spying both our family members standing patiently under the curved overhang, both expertly appearing human in the face of the crowd huddling by the windows. An applause worthy performance. Even if it did appear neither were breathing, or acknowledge our arrival until we were merely yards away.

"Sorry I'm late….but look who I found ambling lost in the city." I grinned, moving swiftly from the shared parasol to greet both Edward and Esme in a polite and dignified human manner. I could almost sense Carlisle's roll of the eyes behind me.

"Did you manage to get your watch sorted?" Carlisle asked, closing his umbrella and shaking the excess water off.

Esme nodded. "Yes all agreed upon, the jeweller said it should take about a week. I can come and collect it then."

"Where's your umbrella, love." Edward asked, gazing confusingly at my empty hands.

"Someone stole it." I told him.

"What?" He exclaimed. "Why would someone steal it?"

"I don't know." I shrugged, moving closer to him as a human came far too close for comfort. "Either someone foolishly left the house without their own, or it's a hate crime."

"A hate crime." He repeated slowly.

"Alright, maybe that's putting it strongly." I muttered, fixing him with my best perpetual frown.

"Can you really afford to look at me like that?" He said slyly, pointing not so subtly towards his own umbrella.

"Damn."

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><p><em>After reaching the hundred mark I was super pumped to get this out, and ok so it may not be the most exciting of chapters but the kick ass awesomeness is coming soon. The events in this chapter are not random; they do have a point and may give you a clue to what's coming next. <em>

_Drop us a line. _


	33. Chapter Thirty Two: In Aeternum

_I blame Olympic fever for my disappearance, having managed to get hold of the somewhat elusive sporting tickets I have spent the last two weeks camped out in my unfurnished Uni house. But what can I say, sleeping on a mattress (no bed frame yet) was completely worth it. Because London 2012 turned out to be awesome. Yet this story is not forgotten (how could it be it's like my child) and in between sporting events I have been typing away on my tiny phone screen. _

_Thanks to: Matthias Stormcrow (Ever faithful reviewer.)_

_ 'time.i (I asked you gave.)_

_lishthefish (Its true I'm pretty much setting this up to be one hell of a bitch fight, I always wondered what would happen if the roles were reversed.)_

_ForgeandGred4Ever (Thanks for the review, sorry to keep you waiting.)_

_Sarah.A.A (I tried to look for a story like this, but to no avail. Hence why I have written my own. But if I do come across another I will be sure to let you know.)_

_Pongu (Really one of the best__? Wow thank you so much, because when I read other peoples incredible FF it makes me kind of depressed. I always think this story is mediocre at best.) _

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><p><span>Chapter Thirty Two: In Aeternum<span>

October 25th 1932

From over the top of the East Rochester Herald, I watched in fascination as Esme began the arduous task of chopping a range of odd looking vegetables. Unlike cooked food there was no pungent smell to behold, only the scent of soil, earth and the outdoors lingered. But still, the whole process of preparing and eating food was frankly bizarre to me; it was a necessary human process that I had no relation to. And that intrigued my curiosity.

"Would you like to help Isabella?" Esme smiled, catching my fascinated gaze and confused head tilt. "There's still quite a bit still to do." She gestured to the pile of food yet to be washed and processed, giving me the benefit of the doubt when enhanced skill would strip the minutes away.

I nodded slowly. "Alright, but I'll probably make a hash of it."

"Nonsense." She replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Why don't you wash and I'll chop?"

It was a repetitive task that required no skill; save remembering to roll up ones sleeves, but it was easy and the sound of the running faucet somewhat soothing. From the window above the sink I was able to view the beautifully manicured garden, now almost drowned by a multitude of colourful autumn leaves from the trees beyond.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Esme expressed, looking upwards to the view but never stopping her continuous task. "I've always had a preference to fall."

"Hmm you're not wrong, it was the first season I lived through after escaping the south. "I mused aloud. "We never had such defined seasons in the desert; it was either summer or monsoon...guess that's why I developed a soft spot for autumn."

"Hmm the south...it sounds..." She fumbled to find the correct words.

"You can ask me anything you know." I replied, in the hopes my reassuring smile would help. Unfortunately not always a guarantee in my case.

"I know. It's just...I don't want to bring up bad memories for you." She confessed. A terribly human statement, it was not like a vampire could ever forget.

"Esme you shared your human past with me; regardless of how as painful it was for you. Now I may not have those memories...but I'm always willing to answer questions about my previous affairs as an immortal. Now what's the question?"

"I heard the stories of the conflict, but I never quite grasped the reason behind it. Perhaps I am being naive towards it."

"Not at all. You know everything was….easier until I asked myself the very same question; my creator told me we were at war over territory. The land surrounding Mexico City. At first I excepted that as a valid reason, but as the newborn blood lust gave way to a mind that could think clearly and for itself. And it seemed like a foolish reason; surely we must be fighting in the name of a more worthy cause." I paused to turn off the faucet and wipe my hands on the dish towel. "And once you begin to question the morals behind your actions, everything becomes so much more difficult."

"So it was over territory?" Esme questioned.

"I believe so; we are territorial vampires by nature. But I was never able to grasp the importance of Puebla; perhaps I am the naive one. Yet the Volturi showed a certain amount of interest in my creator Horace, maybe there was another reason. But of course that has nothing to do with me anymore." I finished, cleaning the remnants of soil from the sink and collecting the peelings from Esme's board.

She nodded slowly, tossing chucks of multi-coloured food into an oven proof dish. From a bundle of brown paper and white string, a lump of cold marble beef was unveiled and along with it the uncomfortable smell of cold blood.

"Fancy helping with the meat?" Esme smiled, brandishing a sharp cleaver.

"Cold raw meat...you're on your own for that one." I made the appropriate face to signal my distaste, before slowly backing away to my spot at the kitchen table. Tossing aside the tabloid in favor of October's first biweekly issue of Vogue; muddling my needs and wants since I first picked up a copy.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but shouldn't an event of this...type be catered for?" I mused, absently flicking through the glossy pages.

"The hospital function is. This is for the charitable food collection, the grocer said most of the people in town are partaking and I didn't want us to seem unwilling." She replied.

"Well if there was any reason to dabble in human culinary, I guess feeding the poor is as good as any. But you're still a saint for wanting to put your hands on raw meat; I draw the line at fruit and vegetables."

"Just be thankful I'm not cooking it. They asked for meals that are pre-made but raw. Imagine the smell...gosh it would linger everywhere." Esme cited, her mock distaste was quite a humorous sight.

"I used to feed the cat fish from the dock market, then make him eat outside to stop the smell from entering the house. No doubt the reason he was so happy to have a new owner when we left."

"So no more pets then?" She laughed.

"God no." A familiar voice sounded from the kitchen arch. All it took was the sound of his shoes echoing across the stone flooring to alert me to Edward's return, not to mention his uncanny ability to take the words right from my lips. He swept in with almost unmatchable grace, depositing himself next to me on the table bench.

"So..still nothing?" I asked him.

"Sorry, love. The only thing was-" he removed a small envelope from his breast pocket, the loopy curled handwriting a clear cut sign. "Another letter from Tanya."

"Another? Bloody hell." I muttered taking it from him. "Damn that Jenks, he said no longer than a week, it's been ten days. And I have half a mind to go to Cleveland and pay him a visit." I growled.

He removed my hands from their current vocation shredding Vogue to pieces, holding them before I could do anymore damage. "Patience is a virtue." He replied.

"Perhaps they got held up in the postal service." Esme interjected, rolling out a thin layer of pastry for the pie.

"Maybe you're right...I guess it's on principle that I give him the benefit of the doubt." I muttered. "And I really don't fancy traveling to Cleveland."

Tanya's letter toyed in front of me, the rose printed stationary full of its usual ramblings and requests. Across the point of the envelop flap her pointless doodles filled the crisp cream paper, muddles of patterns, shapes and two abstract figures; one who had suspiciously similar features to myself. Doodle me even brandished a mink fur coat.

"Not going to open it?"

I regarded the letter for a little longer, ironing out the creases and slightly dog eared corners between my fingers. "I'll read it later." I decided aloud, tossing it flippantly towards the discarded newspaper. "I'm not in the mood."

"Right. All done." Esme announced confidently, wiping her hands down the dark linen of her apron. The mountains of food she had spent the day preparing disappeared into the depths of the unused refrigerator.

"Look at the state of me." She said, taking notice of the flour dusting the strands of her hair. "I best start getting cleaned up." With her apron discarded in the utility, she was soon gone in a cloud of flour.

The sight of the table littered with piles of letters irked my obsessive side, and I began sorting them into a tidy pile.

In-between a mass of pointless mail, three days' worth of newspapers and the Denali's letters, the polished typed invitation for the Hospital function was almost lost.

Having opened; and remained so for eighty five years, Rochester's General Hospital was to stage an elaborate party in celebration and to raise money for a new ward. There was no escape for the likes of Carlisle and Esme, he not wanting to let the chief physician down after a glowing reference. And Esme not wanting to abandon Carlisle to make idle chit chat with the humans at the function, for appearing without his wife was surely a source of gossip for the social animals.

Luckily for Edward and I the invitation was for two, along with a compulsory donation for the hospital fund and seats at an elaborately decorated table. For once appearing so young really had its perks. My immortality as a social recluse was slowly becoming apparent.

"We should go out." I stated. "I think I'm becoming a hermit."

"Out? You mean out in the wilderness out, or into the city out?" Edward questioned.

"Anywhere." I responded, turning in my seat and placing my chin on the palm of my hand. "Because much longer in this house and I will become a piece of the furniture."

"Then pick somewhere and we'll go." Was the instant reply, as he leaned back lazily against the back of his chair.

I pondered the open invitation for a moment, mulling over the different places we could go. "How about Scarface?"

"Scarface?"

"Yeah, it came out in the theatre last week. The reviews are somewhat...mixed but I still want to see it." I explained, flicking back through the newspaper to find the cinema listings.

"I'm well aware of the film, but...we could go anywhere. Do you honestly want to sit in a smoke filled room and watch a film about stereotypical gangsters?" He replied.

"Yes, I do want to watch a film about stereotypical gangsters...but… gosh I hate it when you're right. It takes ages to rid my hair of the smell...there really is no ventilation in those rooms." I mumbled, studying the ends of my hair in mock horror. "Rochester really is difficult."

"Difficult?"

"It's a lot more clean cut than the Erie or Toledo…..well it seems that way in the suburbs." I sniffed, laying my head on folded arms and staring blankly at the kitchen cabinets. I heard Edward's chair legs scrape across the floor, no doubt escaping my shabby mood. Who could blame him, I was becoming restless in this small town. The move could not come soon enough, the novelty of living life as a human was becoming stale. Hunting grounds around the area were small, and prime spots of natural beauty for the humans to amble around. There was little hope of letting go completely, always having to keep in control. An eye and ear open for that hiker who had strayed from the path.

As rotten as life in the south may have been, at least we never denied our animalistic side a chance to dominate.

"Come on." He announced suddenly, doing an effective job of making me flinch in my huddled position.

"Come on where?" I questioned dumbly.

"You have-" He checked the watch upon his wrist. "one hour, before we leave. If you're not ready by then I will be forced to drag you out." He shot a dazzling smile my way, before fleeing the room with as much grace as he had entered.

"Wait….where are we going?" I yelled, getting up to follow him.

"Out."

"But…..but I haven't even washed my hair?!"

"One hour."

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><p>"I had no idea this was even here." I announced, trailing a bare hand along the cool grey stone beneath my fingertips.<p>

"Me neither." His footsteps continued behind me. "Carlisle mentioned it actually; he took this route on a visit to the Memorial Hospital. Said the Riverway Trail was rather beautiful, I figured it would be nicer at night."

"You're not wrong." I breathed, purposely standing taller to gain a better view of the great river below." I read something about this trail and the aqueduct in Esme's travel guide; to be honest I was a little under whelmed by its description. But I guess the humans can do some great things when they put their minds to it."

"Mind you don't fall." Edward called, taking my hand as I leaned over large stone walls to look at the aqueducts arches.

"I have no desire to fall in." I replied, up righting anyway to lessen the chance.

In the distance a church bell tower chimed its solitary one bell; it seemed our adventures around the city had taken us into the early hours of the morning. Yet more of Rochester had been seen in those hours than since we had arrived.

A trip to the theatre lasted only till the first interval, the fat lady had yet to sing and I had grown tediously tired of the theatrics on my senses. And now already doused in tobacco smoke from that escapade, we had snuck passed the lethargic cinema usher and proceeded to watch the second half of Scarface. With such a gory script and some shady looking characters sat in the back corner, it was no wonder people kept leaving throughout and we were left with an almost private showing.

As we ambled onwards it was with a bountiful amount of excitement I found myself face to face with the All Hallow's Eve pageant window displays, proudly showing their seasonal delights and produce. From the buildings strings of white lanterns hung across the street, all in preparation for the harvest festival in two day's time. And for once Rochester didn't seem so bad.

The bright lights of the business district shone well past twilight and into the night, still visible now as we quietly explored down river. The piles of golden leaves in the park were far too tempting and I confess to having jumped in especially deep ones and making Edward join me.

I'm sure there were still bits of leaf in my hair.

"What are you thinking?" He whispered the question unheard by the lone passer by being pulled along by a large Great Dane.

I swallowed the sarcastic answer burning on the tip of my tongue, instead focusing on the curiosity of his tone and desire for a truthful answer in his eyes. "I was just thinking that perhaps Rochester deserved more credit than I give it."

"So you do like this city?" He questioned.

"I do. You have managed to change my mind, a difficult feat. Congratulations." I replied, huddling closer to him when a gust of wind threatened to send my hat flying.

"But do you like it enough?" He said.

"Enough?"

"Enough to get married here?"

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><p><em>AN: Well finally a (sort of) marriage proposal, about time too. But I needed a cliff hanger ending to help my post-Olympic blues. Although…. 1933 is just around the corner and yet another character to join this slightly dysfunctional family. I made a reference to Jenks; of course I know the original was from Seattle, but I liked the idea of a relative making an appearance. _

_Reviews appreciate._


	34. Chapter Thirty Three: Accipio

_A/N: Having been away on holiday for two weeks, it was wishful thinking I would have chance to write while enjoying the sun. Hence why this update had taken a little longer. But now I'm back at home, where it's not sunny and winter is coming._

_So thanks to everyone who has reviewed, put this story on alert, or favoured it. And a big thanks for your patience with my incredible slow…ness._

Chapter Thirty Three: Accipio

Marriage. A perfectly human idea that legally bound two people together. Be it a good or bad idea, even members of the vampire race had embraced this form of endearment to bind themselves to their mates. Once upon a Mexican plain the notion was farfetched and met with the cynical view of one who was not in love. But having later found myself to be deep within the emotion I had once deemed a weakness, marriage now seemed like an action within my grasp.

Humans based their whole lives around selecting the perfect partner, before planning elaborate ceremonies and inviting masses of extended family and friends.

And even I would not deny have admired the beautiful lace gowns, inlays of clear glass beads and rivers of silk.

But now with the offer fully standing and right in front of me, having come out of the blue. And could honestly admit to being completely dumbfounded.

I liked to assume I was articulate in expressing myself, but the dumb: "Sorry?" that passed my lips was enough to make my eyes roll.

"Wait." I placed my hand up signalling I was going to try again. "Pardon? Marriage...really? I mean...it's not that I don't want to; because I do but...it's kind of out of the blue. Isn't it?"

"I believe it's called being spontaneous." He replied, his hands finding themselves in his pockets.

"I guess you're right...it's supposed to be a spontaneous thing...Sorry I'm not great with surprises." I said, mortified at my awkward response.

He smiled. "Why do you think we're alone? I know you have a tendency to freak out when things are out of your control."

"I do not frea-" I caught his pointed stare. "Only sometimes." I muttered quietly.

"So, do you want to marry me or not?" He stated simply. Turning away from the headlights of a passing motorcar, our shadows dancing along the sidewalk along with hordes of fall leaves.

"That's a very pointed way to put it...but are you sure you've thought this through? Marriage means you're stuck with me...forever. And if you've failed to notice forever is a very long time."

"I know."

"And I "I'm aware of that."

"Plus people say I'm really very stubborn, and I' m not an avid fan of opera."

"I know you're not a fan of opera, truth be told I've never cared for it either. And I will wholly admit to being the one to call you stubborn, because it's completely true. Forever is a very long time, that's why I want to spend it with you."

"Well then if you're quite sure-" I began.

"I am."

"Then I should do very well to except your...proposal." I declared, as we continued our stoic standing upon a swim swept bridge. "All be it slightly...odd, but that is much appreciated on my part."

"When has tradition ever been your forte?" He answered, his lips curling into an identifiable half smile. "Although. I hope you traditional enough to except this." From the left breast pocket of his thick winter coat; an item I had purchased on his behalf, he extracted a small box and handed it to me. "Not everything was quite so spontaneous."

The box snapped open with a little click, flashing the band of white gold and exquisitely cut diamonds sitting perfectly within deep burgundy velvet. "It's so beautiful." I murmured, tilting the little box under the available light and allowing the cluster of clear diamonds to shimmer. "But I-I can't accept this." I said shaking my head and attempting to push the ring back into his hands. "It belonged to your mother and it is your memento.

"And it is mine to give to whom I please." He replied, pressing the cherry wood box back into my hands. "What use is it sitting in a box?" A silence passed between us where I tried most assertively to give it back, but he was giving me a look I could not fight.

"Fine." I conceded. "You win. Plus how could I let such an item go to waste, hidden in a box."

The elegance of the ring was clarified by its simplicity and blissfully held the perfect fit. Unlike another ring in my possession; that lay well hidden in the bottom of my bedside cabinet, it was not garnish or pretensions. "I love it."

Even in my suede heeled pumps, my tip toes were required to reach to correct height for an embrace and subsequently allowing our lips to touch. All the while the disbelief of the situation rang a mantra thought my mind, I was getting married.

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><p><span>October 31st 1931<span>

"What she doesn't know won't kill her...metaphorically speaking." I answered.

"You are far braver than I, to deny Tanya information." Carlisle smiled, turning up the cuffs on his shirt, as I sat stood on one foot in a rueful attempt to lace up my boots.

"Why should I indulge her, when no date has been set?" I replied. "The winter weather near and I have no desire to marry in the snow, so next year is the probable outlook. And there is no doubt in my mind she will want to make the four thousand mile journey...I've already had my fix of Tanya for the year."

"There is no love lost then." He laughed.

"A dear friend she maybe, but I prefer her antics in small doses. I do fear her penchant for taking control may land me with an elaborate wedding I have no hankering for." I confessed. "Allow me to revel in fact I am to be married for a little while longer, before unleashing the likes of the Denali coven upon us."

"Duly noted." said Carlisle. "While I do enjoy the company of our extended family, one cannot help but be slightly relieved then they announce their departure...of course that is between you and I."

"Naturally." I smiled coly.

"Shall we." He gestured towards the door. As soon as I walked the threshold I braced myself for the bitter gale that was blowing, unable to touch my stone like stance, it instead aimed for my untied hair to demonstrate its power. Tossing the strands haphazardly into my face and raggedly in the air. After removing the strands from my mouth, several times, I eventually stood against the wind in silent triumph.

"Windy." I acknowledged.

"They say this depression should last till Wednesday, and then we should expect sleet."

"Fantastic." I muttered. "The only this worse than snow...sleet. Rain and snow combined."

Having already gone ahead; having waited over four days since their last meal, we were to join Edward and Esme amongst the wilderness. Still we hunted in pairs for safety; the threat of Victoria was still at large, for it was abnormal for a vampire to take the death of her supposed mate so silently. Even against a coven that significantly outnumbered her, most attacked in grief and vengeance often following their other half to the grave. Yet not a hide nor hair had been seen of her and that alone was disconcerting.

Hopefully the move to Waynesville would put our minds at rest, and hundreds of miles between ourselves and the crazy bitch. Living in a more southerly location would also hopefully mean a warmer climate, where winter meant a slight dip in temperatures and cloudy days, instead of several meters of snow that was enough to cause the human population to go into hibernation.

"Have to considered having the wedding here?" Carlisle questioned. Running alongside me as we ducked and weaved towards prime hunting grounds further afield.

"To be honest I have no idea." I confessed. "It could be here or it could be in Waynesville. I am in no hurry; I plan on only doing this once, so why rush."

"A very sensible plan. And what of Edward?"

"He said it was up to me."

"A very sensible decision by him."

"Exceedingly." I agreed.

"On the topic of Waynesville." He began. "I have received some house listings from the real estate broker."

"Excellent. Anything of interest?"

"I haven't had the chance to read through them all, but the ones I had seen are quite grand. I shall allow everyone to look at them later, after all this is a family decision." He said.

"Indeed." I agreed. "Although I would suggest something that needs a little…renovating. Esme has found quite the interest in restoration and decorating."

"Ah great minds thing alike. I requested listings that needed some work."

"You are always one step ahead Carlisle." I teased.

"Unfortunately I cannot take all the credit, for it was Edward who pointed out the idea."

"Ah well Edward will always be one step ahead, so we mustn't count him." I declared.

The trek through the open farm land ended abruptly, making way for the beginning of the dense woodland. Since our run in with the two nomads; some many months ago, we had forfeited our usual hunting ground in the south west. Now we travelled east, towards the finger lakes and the surrounding forests, unfortunately the amount of edible animals in the area was lacking. But it remained in the hope that there would be no more confrontations, or run-ins with less than admirable vampires.

But I sincerely hoped Victoria had come to an epiphany regarding her good for nothing counterpart, considered herself lucky to be free from him and moved on. That was most probably wishful thinking on my part.

"It seems Hallowe'en is going turning out to be rather popular in town this year." Carlisle declared out of the blue, his trail of thought clearly so deviated from my own.

I nodded, before realising a verbal response was probably most appropriate. "You're not wrong. This whole, house to house guising has caught on quickly."

"Guising indeed." He muttered.

"Do I detect a hint of annoyance from you Carlisle?"

"Annoyance….perhaps not, more confused bemusement." He replied. "Several medial interns decided to hide to cadaver bags."

"Do I even want to ask?"

"Apparently it was a Halloween escapade, a practical joke to scare the mortuary interns. Their effort was unfortunately botched by me as I began my shift early."

"You're kidding?" I laughed.

"Nope. I was most alarmed to find so many strong heart beats upon the cold slabs." He chuckled.

"What happened?"

"Well, I may have made some comments regarding my post mortem practices before unzipping the bags…. just to make sure the same thing never happened again of course."

"Look at you." I gushed. "Getting very crafty and embracing your Hallowe'en spirit. But you have to admire the humans, they've made light of a festival originally practiced to honouring the dead. I have become particularly impartial to their costumes, ever since the release of Dracula guising as a vampire has become quite popular."

"And still I have yet to see it."

"Oh you must, who doesn't want to see Bela Lugosi as Count Dracula?" I replied excitedly. The distraction causing me to jump rather awkwardly across a shallow ravine, barely making the other side. Yet, as per usual, Carlisle's step never faltered, leaving me to wonder it grace really did come with age.

"I shall have to take your word on that." He said, sounding slightly unsure how to respond.

"With all the brilliantly kooky vampiric stereotypes, the human view of us is becoming quite warped." I mused.

"You know I have had the very same thought." He nodded. "I wondered if the sudden media attraction towards vampires may indeed be beneficial for us, after all we don't fit the standardized conception anymore."

"Hmm…. although turning into a bat would be pretty useful some times."

With a halting stop we came across the centre of a coppiced clearing, a mirage of dark thickets occupying almost both sides. Although hardly known for its beauty; and a notorious hotspot for snakes, it was an ideal central meeting place during hunting excursions. And if you were to climb the surrounding pine trees, it provided an excellent vantage point over the surrounding land.

From the direction of Esme and Edwards trails; one heading north the other east, Carlisle and I parted ways and headed in opposite directions. I decided upon my path and cut a route through the shrubbery, heading southwards towards a previously well designated herd of deer.

With barely an effort on my part, the musty smell of the animal wafted in my direction. Soon followed by the sound of their hooves against the dry forest floor and nasal breaths into the bitter air.

Darkness had fallen now, but the waxing moon hung low in the inky black sky. Casting its long shadows through the gaps in the trees, with the contrasting light levels it was easy to be stealthy. Moving ever closer to my prey and a good meal.

It was only when a squawk from the tree top sounded, that the deer were alerted to the danger approaching. Turing so abruptly on their four legs some stumbled in the chaos. But the pitched trill in the air was not to warn them of me, but another peril approaching rapidly.

In between the skinny black trees I could see their silvery fur glinting in the available light, there were rumbles of growls and snarls before high pitched howls pierced the air. It seemed I had stumbled on a rather elusive pack of coyotes.

The smell of their blood was most tantalizing compared to that of the herbivores, and it was the thrill of hunting said predator that added to my preference over…..the more beastly of animals. They were quick, skilful and fought back when challenged. An exciting prospect when continuously presented with frightened prey.

So it came about that I would eat extremely well tonight, and things were beginning to look up.

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><p><em>AN: Well finally chapter thirty three is up, with the whole engagement thing out of the way I can finally get to the next part of the story. And 1933 has arrived. _

_Reviews if you please. _


	35. Chapter Thirty Four: Ex ante

A/N: Delighted to have this chapter out, it is after all the official lead up and scene setter for the drama. Yes, yes it is true 1933 has finally arrived. All due to your encouragement through reviews, alerts and favourites. And although suffering from 'fresher's flu'; courtesy of my adoring house mates, I give you chapter thirty four.

And of course my disclaimer, because I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga.

Chapter Thirty Four: Ex ante

April 16th 1933

Regardless to the fact that neither hot nor cold temperatures affected me, I deemed the performance I was giving was second to none.

The humans, currently crammed into the uncomfortable walnut pews, were huddled together in hopes of forging some warmth. Alas even with mittens and gloves, blankets and shawls, it was proving useless. Because heedless to the grand stone walls or impressive spire roof, church was always cold. Perhaps it was a cleverly devised plan by the clergy to keep their members awake during sermons.

This particular reading fell uncomfortably from the lips of the priest, echoing loudly around the hollow room. The articulation of certain syllables rang horridly; a squeaky hiss trilled over the letter 's', along with drawn out phrases to communicate their importance. And while the few in the front pews listened with rapture, those more reluctant to attend church sat at the far back away from the sweeping gaze of the clergy.

Having arrived on time; for we were always punctual it seemed, and although not regular "church goers" we had managed to seat ourselves midway down the aisle. Yet regardless to our position, it was almost impossible to see past the mirage of elaborate hats.

Since being properly introduce to this weekly religious get together; and deducing quickly that this really wasn't my kind of thing, it had come to my attention that this is where society's best and brash attempted to outdo each other. Crisp new suits, dresses made of the finest materials, and best of all the sheer number of large hats.

Whether they be themed; flowers, seasons, or just made as elaborate as physically possible. They were quite brilliant. I humorously wondered if I should wear such a hat the next time I was invited to an uptight social convention.

Yet such a thought was soon deterred by a reminder of the old stuffed mammal hats worn by one of Carlisle old patients, and that was enough to put me quite off. The realm of my soft felt cloche hat was suddenly much more appealing, and under the confines of its low brim I could safely covert myself from the human stares.

One of the reasons we never ventured to church, was the confined environment, where making a quick escape bought about the attention of the whole room. No open windows or doors, a space filled to the rafters with humans. Not ideal for a vampire.

But it was April 16th, Easter Sunday. And almost every family in Geneseo had braved the chilly weather and frosty conditions, to show their faces in the house of God. We Cullen's would be no exception. Therefore we sat silently in our pew, lost in thought and waiting for this charade to end. Breathing regularly and fidgeting often to dampen suspicion.

From in between the masses of people; several pews in front, sat an inquisitive child. Dressed in a pale green Sunday dress, with copious amounts of green ribbon, and a high starched white collar, she did not face the correct way. Instead crouched in her seat, hands holding tightly to the back of the pew, she gazed most intently in our direction. On her head the effected of an ill fashion choice, a floral bonnet with a copious amount of ruffles. An item she also thought very little of, as her small hands repetitively tugged at the itchy lace chin tie.

Upon meeting my eye, she ducked, unsuccessfully attempting to hide. Her pale blue eyes peeking up from the bench back, she intently watched me.

It seemed those most perceptive to us were the children, unlike their older adult counterparts; who made up legitimate human reasons for our appearances, children saw our perfection as a flaw. Most, simply innocent enough to believe in fairy tales, and perhaps we were part of those stories.

She deemed it safe enough to look up again as the priest called out the Lord's Prayer, the congregation bowing their heads in respect. I bobbed my head down, but kept my eyes upon the inquisitive child. Watching as she quietly regarded her relatives beside her, for any sign they had noted her behaviour. But they were none the wiser.

I smiled when she caught my eye, making sure it was small and there was no hint of my predatory teeth on show. But either this child was smarter than she looked, or was destined to be a menace to society. For her stellar response to my smile, was to stick her tongue out in my direction and wrinkle her nose.

Children were definitely not my forte.

But I had the last laugh, for upon sticking out my own tongue in response, she let out a surprised gasp. Alerting the attention of her mother, who sent her a quiet scolding and proceeded to retie the itchy lace around her chin. It was a hollow victory against a child, but a victory nonetheless.

"Once again I am forced to ask, do I want to know?" Edward whispered, squeezing my fingers between his own.

"If you have to ask, you really don't want to know." I replied, gently nudging his shoulder.

"She believes you to be a Nixie." He said, covering up his smile with a cleverly disguised cough.

I frowned in confusion, "And what is a Nixie?"

"Most famed by the brothers Grimm. I believe they are malevolent, shape shifting water spirits, who have a penchant for luring children to their watery deaths." He explained, clearly loving this more than he should.

"Lovely." I huffed.

"Rumoured to be very beautiful."

"Oh." I sounded sarcastically. "I suppose that makes the '_whole watery death thing'_ alright then?"

The small girl in the lace bonnet never looked back again, and on the way out of church, made it her mission to become one with her mother's skirts. While we tried to make a quick and painless exit, that didn't involve small talk or niceties. But like most plans it ended with a human in the way, and a fictitious attempt to grace our good books.

For we once again found ourselves invited to yet another small get-together, by people we didn't know and with people we didn't care for. Luckily Carlisle was adapt to these situations, and with forced regret informed them that pre-made made plans with relatives out of town did beckon, but to send his regards nonetheless.

This answer was enough to satisfy the portly woman and willowy man, for they bounded off to tell their friends of our apparent regards towards the invite.

"I do not believe we are acquainted with them." Esme questioned aloud, looking puzzled towards the departed strangers.

"Nope we have never met them." Edward informed us, linking his arm through mine and walking us towards the car. "But they are about to come back and invite us to a dinner party next week."

"Assuming the escape formation. Well played." I grinned, catching up with his pace.

"You know me love, always looking out for our best interests." He replied.

"God I do so detest church." I replied.

* * *

><p>"<em>Restoration calls, however, not for changes in ethics alone. This Nation is asking for action, and action now. <em>

_Our greatest primary task is to put people to work. This is no unsolvable problem if we face it wisely and courageously. It can be accomplished in part by direct recruiting by the Government itself, treating the task as we would treat the emergency of a war, but at the same time, through this employment, accomplishing greatly needed projects to stimulate and reorganize the use of our great natural resources-"_

The wireless buzzed aloud once again with the voice of our new president, fraught with promises of a new deal. I had lost count of the number of times I had listened to his Inauguration speech; people were hooked upon his words and plans. For the first time since this depression had gripped the country, it looked like something was being done.

Now fifty days into his first term, things were finally taking a turn for the better. So many Acts and Agencies now in place, aiding banking, agriculture, and industrial recovery. Although I deemed the end of prohibition a bit of a sore spot, seeing as it meant the end of illegal speakeasies.

But if all these regulations worked perhaps it wouldn't be long before I could hire myself a new stock broker, and begin to make my fortune again.

Oh illicit gambling on the stock market, how I had missed it.

But concern with money was void at the moment, other than clothing necessities; which I admitted were usually paid for by Carlisle, I had no outgoings. And with reforms in the banking system, it was once again safe to entrust my money in such establishments and gather interest. Because budgeting for a possible eternity was difficult.

"This is the one." I looked up from throwing items into the washer, to see Esme pointing excitedly towards a copy of Packard motorcar catalogue.

I wiped my hands on the linen towel, getting rid of the soap powder from in between my nails. Before leaning over the double page spread, and her incessant pointing. "Ooh." I trilled. "Now that is handsome."

"I'll say, it's the newest 1006 twelve model. Great mileage per gallon….up to one hundred miles an hour...Oh and we can pick out our own upholstery."

"Date?" I asked, too busy admiring the shiny picture of the car.

"Comes out...May 13th, next month." She continued, playing idly with the corner of the glossy magazine.

"What a coincidence." I smiled. "Just in time for the move."

"It also says the Packard dealership accepts part exchange for older vehicles. Which means-"

"We can get rid of the Ford...and get that car. And for the benefit of the coven and our own sanity, we need it." I declared.

"It would be wonderful ….but gosh one month...Is that really all the time we have?" She questioned rhetorically. "I haven't even had a chance to sort through what's going into storage."

"Have you decided what's happening with the furniture?" I asked, giving the washer a healthy bump when it made an unfortunate noise.

"Well unless there is anything you're particularly fond of, it can all stay here." She replied. "There's basic furniture at the new house, but once the restoration is complete we can start picking out pieces."

I nodded enthusiastically, happy that Esme was so excited about the move. But the notion was quickly followed by the unpalatable feeling of guilt, it had been a while since Esme and I had bonded over an activity. In the last months our time had consisted of several trips back and forth to North Carolina, scouting out possible properties along with the area.

While Christmas had been spent in Alaska, amongst the snow and Edward growing dislike towards Laurent. And by the second week of our stay Irina's beau decided to disappear; we were later notified by Tanya he had returned several days after we left. Having once again 'slipped up.' So current relationships between the Denali sisters were strained at best.

With all the fuss of attempting to placate emotions, view houses eight hundred miles away, and traffic a copious amount of forged documents. It left very little time for idle activities.

"Want to visit Macy's and look at wedding dresses with me?" I asked, hoping more than anything she would agree. Hoping to kill two birds with one stone.

"Of cour- I would love to." She trilled ecstatically. "But I didn't think you and Edward had set a date?"

"We haven't." I confirmed. "Yet...there's no harm in taking a look, is there? Giving myself an idea of what I may like. And you know...I do value your opinion in high regard." I declared bashfully.

I watched her topaz eyes soften, and her hand reach for mine across the table. "Then I shall give you the best and most honest opinion I can." She replied.

"I'm counting on it, because I've always had this notion of being far too pale to pull off a white dress. I've always liked cream"

* * *

><p>AN: And another chapter is out, but my Whovian woe is still present. Making a sick person cry like a baby. Damn you Moffat.

Oh and reviews most welcome.


	36. Chapter Thirty Five: Atrox Flavia

_A/N: It's here, the beginning of a new saga. And how good it feels to dictate over the lives of the characters in my story. Also dictated upon is my now severely reduced story alerts, because sometimes you just have to let go when enough time has passed. So I'm on the lookout for something new_.

_Thanks once again for all the reviews, alerts, favourites I can't say it enough. _

_My disclaimer once again states: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga. _

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Thirty Five: Atrox Flavia<span>

May 2th 1933

Temptation was rife. Regardless to whether one was mortal or immortal, we were all taken in by the ambiance of the atrium, and the rows upon rows of glass counters. Every surface was polished and buffed; expectantly made of the most high end materials that glittered and sparkled under the soft lighting.

From the moment one passed through the revolving doors, had their coat and hat taken by gallantly dressed staff member, it was a completely different world. Where even the ceilings were dressed with ornate mouldings and carved cornices. Where everything was perfect and beautiful, where nothing could possibly go wrong if one simply had money.

Floor after floor towered above the entrance, filled to the brim with exclusive items. There was something terribly exciting about the department store.

And so, with little mind of where to start we began to happily amble. Walking the jewellery cases and admiring the outlandishly garish beauty of the highly valued pieces. There were stool's position every couple of yards, playing host to the wealthy as they admired items on velvet display trays. Appropriate sounds were made as sales assistances presented the exclusive goods, making a show as they held them lithely in their nimble fingers, deliberation in catching the light.

With their attentions firmly taken, Esme and I were able to avoid too much bother. Eventually, finding ourselves trailing contently through the racks of beautifully tailored clothes and rolls of fabric. Unlike once upon a time, where wedding dresses were merely one's best gown, and could be worn again and again. They were now merely worn once, before being put away, only ever to be gazed upon it times of reflection.

Which turns out was quite fine by me, such colours as white and cream were hardly practical for daily use. And the sheer amount of lace and ribbons sewn onto hems, collars and seams were truly ridiculous.

"I confess I have not the slightest idea to what I'm looking for." I mused, continuing to flick leisurely through the rail of gowns.

"I know the feeling." Esme agreed. "I was most adamant I wanted a simple two piece, skirt and blouse with no fuss. And we both know how that ended." She smiled, rolling in topaz eyes.

"But your gown and veil were so beautiful, it's no wonder you changed your mind."

"True." She nodded. "Although it's been over a decade since my nuptials, and the styles have changed a bit."

With no real idea in mind, between the two of us we ended up with a horde of different kinds of dresses. Bombarding our requests upon a young sales assistant; who diligently guided us towards the dressing rooms, before scurrying off to get the correct sizes. Esme decided to take a diligent seat outside my small room, in order to deliver her most honest opinion, and to aid me in the lacing, buttoning or zipping up of garments. Since I had little desire to explain to the human dresser why my torso was marred with such scars. Especially the one that most resembled two sets of teeth that would be most awkward.

"Are you ready for the first?" Esme questioned.

"Probably not." I replied. "But indulge me nevertheless."

It was many dresses later, after copious pulled faces and grimaces that I came across a promising sight.

"This one is nice." I confirmed, running my hands along the sleek material. "It's less…extravagant than the others."

"It's beautiful." Esme said, all the while her fingers working away to tighten the slack laces at the back. Once finished, she stood back, her eyes flickering over the dress before gracing me with a dizzy smile.

"Well." I prompted.

"You look stunning." She gushed, pushing me towards the full length mirror. For the first time I was able to regard the dress in full. It was cream, relatively simple with a lace bodice. Perhaps not a modern design; but then again neither was I, a remnant of a past decade.

Regarding myself in the dress was a more difficult task, I was naturally critical of the things I wished to change. I had already decided to decrease the amount of ribbon on the bust and cuffs, and there was no way I was walking with a train. But past these improvements I would undoubtedly make to my own, I was delightfully enchanted by it.

"You know I'm quite surprised, the long lace sleeves have really grown on me." I mused. "I should very much like to add them to my own design... I shall have to shop for lace. There's an idea I've always scoffed at."

"You could always use the needle lace from my veil." Esme offered.

I'm sure my neck almost snapped at the speed I turn at her words, such sincerity made an uncle table lump grow in my throat. "Esme." I said thickly. "I can't accept that, it's your wedding dress. You treasure it."

She nodded. "But what good is it sitting idle in my armoire, I shall never wear it again."

"But what if you and Carlisle get married again."

"I shall buy another." She said. "Consider it your something borrowed."

"I don't know what to say." I confessed. "I'd be honoured. But...are you really sure? Because once I see it and fall in love with it, there's no going back."

"I'm quite sure." She smiled.

"Well." I breathed. "I guess I've decided on this style, I can't quite believe it. Truly is it supposed to be this easy? I was under the presumption it was a long drawn out process, where one would spend days, weeks even months looking for the perfect one. And look here I am...I'm rambling. Sorry."

"Overwhelming, isn't it?" Her fingers raked rhythmically through my hair, sorting through the tangled snarls and setting them pretty about my face. And whether she knew it or not, it was a soothing action.

"Exceedingly." I replied. "I never thought I of all people would be getting married."

"Why ever not?"

I listened around us to make sure there were no humans within hearing range, lowering my voice regardless. "You know I have no memories of the past, but upon awaking from the change I had retained the use of words and I was still literate. When asked, I could give a perfect definition of things, even if I couldn't recall them. Upon recalling items like books, there was a sense of familiarity. Yet when people spoke of marriage… the whole notion was very…alien. That's why I was dubious to having been engaged in the past, the whole idea was not recognizable to me."

"And now?" She prompted.

"Now I find myself in love, and marriage is very agreeable." I confessed, absentmindedly running my hands along the dress satin.

"Well I'm delightfully ecstatic for the both of you, and if you don't mind me saying….It was about time."

"You're right." I laughed. "It's only taken fifteen years with a nine year sabbatical in between. Not a recommendation for any relationship, but I guess we got there in the end."

""Anything worth having is worth fighting for." She quipped.

"Oh I certainly hope so, but then again didn't Jefferson also say: the world belongs to the living not the dead. Look how that turned out for us."

* * *

><p>After getting far too emotional and philosophical for my own liking, the experience was quickly rectified as we exited the department store having spent an eye watering amount. Layed down with bags, containing what could only be described as a horde of expensive items, deemed only necessary by the female race. Things that would no doubt clutter my vanity desk, and confuse Edward to no end. Because explaining why I had pearl headed bobby pins had been enough of a trial.<p>

After successfully managing to relocate the car in the sea of identical Fords, we stashed the bag away. Reapplying a layer of rouge in the window; before taking to Second Street in search of the lawyer's office. Hoping to catch Carlisle and Edward before they finished with the deeds meeting.

Although a short distance away, the walk was slight accosted by the sheer number of people who had all decided that this particular Tuesday was the perfect day for a city amble. Or perhaps the news of the 'Strange Spectacle on Loch Ness' and reports on its monster, were just too enticing not to share. Either way, I was forced to step into the road gutters more times than I cared to count. Lucky for me the last few days had been rain free, so the storm drains were dry.

Our plans of meeting in the lawyer's office were scuttled upon being informed that our counterparts had left, now on their way to the estate realtor to finalise the document transactions. Which meant we were now the proud owners of a grand house in Waynesville, North Carolina. And so in celebration we took to the drapers in search of fabric samples.

Eventually, as the sun began to fall into the horizon, and the light started to fade we reluctantly admitted defeat. Shops bought in there outdoor advertising, and slowly the days training came to a halt.

We once again managed to find the car; now sat quite alone in the empty lot. It was quite a pity it was still here, people just didn't have the dexterity to steal anymore, or maybe they were all too wise to how awful the Ford was. But I'm sure it still had a scrap value.

Regardless, we left the city centre as the sun set; passing groups of young people on their way to the now legal bars. The novelty of being able to buy an alcoholic drink had still not worn off, even for the likes of me, and I sincerely hoped Tanya was up for some bar hopping during the next visit.

"Do you think you will miss Rochester?" Esme questioned.

"Hmm a little." I replied, fingering the fraying stitching on the upholstered chair. "I'll miss the lakes; I haven't really ever ventured far from them. It will be strange."

"We can always come back, it's not like we're restricted by time."

"Eventually. But perhaps I should at least try and see the rest of the fifty two states. Maybe even go to another country...there is a lot of world to explore. While also skilfully managing to avoid Italy."

The happy banter that usually accompanied most car journeys came to an abrupt end, the moment we arrived home. The very second we stepped down from the vehicle.

It was easy to see something was not right, we could tell from the offset. The sickly sweet smell of spilt human blood lingered far too close to the house, splatters and drops visible along the path, up the steps, on the porch. In the depths of my mouth venom began to pool, the burning fire raging in desire. Esme's audible gulp signalled my own, before we exchanged a foreboding look of dread.

Nothing good ever accompanied the smell of human blood.

The Cadillac's rear door was wide open; one curious look was enough to make the burning in my throat tenfold. The once pristine cream upholstery, was now saturated an incriminating burgundy.

"W-what's going on?" Esme whispered rhetorically. Her hand grasping onto my arm tightly, and darkened gaze now turned deliberately away from the bloody motorcar. As we reached the whimsically shaped path, the thundering of a human heart beat became all too clear. And with it, the uncomfortable groans and shrieks. It was loud, frightfully so, both of us flinching and shying away from such an abrasive noise. But there was now little doubt in my mind, I'd heard it all before.

"A change?" I mumbled out. Beginning to recall all those other times I had been in a situation such as this. We should rush in, determined what was happening, I should be able to help where I failed last time. But going in is a scary thought. I'm selfish creature and I don't like change. I'm perfectly content with how thing are.

Yet I can feel Esme's eyes on me, and I sincerely hope she's not looking for some kind of direction.

My body lurches forward in fright when the front door creaks open; we still haven't got around to oiling that hinge. I realise eventually that it was Edward standing upon the porch; I was guiltily relieved to find his eyes still topaz, glinting darkly, but still golden.

"Something's happened." He stated grimly.

* * *

><p>AN: Introducing another character is so daunting; I went through so many different scenarios to this chapter. Even having Bella finding Rosalie, but I think the way I have written her makes her far too selfish and wary to change another person. She'd rather see them put out of their misery then become a vampire.

And although Carlisle didn't change her to become Edward's mate, I like to think he hoped to give her another chance. Which he may come to question…she's not exactly a bag of sunshine.


	37. Chapter Thirty Six: Si vis pacem, para b

_Well my 'reading week' has been productive, although I haven't actually started any Uni work yet. I've had bucket loads of inspiration for this chapter, hence why it's out a little earlier. So thanks for the reviews, it was really down to you guys for this bout of fast paced ideas. _

_Some people suggested having Victoria change Rosalie, (I love that idea! How awesome would that be, I think Rosalie would be a little more grateful for having been saved once she got a taste of real vampire life) but unfortunately my Vicky is currently off having her own little adventure. _

_So thanks for the reviews, alerts and favourites. Keep 'em coming. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Thirty Six: Si vis pacem, para bellum<span>

It was incessant. A never ending barrage of noise, high pitched and abrasive. Regardless to the fact the walls were feet deep with stone, the sound managed to find its way through nooks and crannies. Traveling to every part of the house, so there was no respite or any place to hide away.

We had hoped the pain would eventually overcome her threshold, deliver a moment of calm and peace in the household. But Miss Hale was most adamant that we were to share in her change. A brash as she seemed to be in life was only amplified in her death.

The way in which she had been found was harrowing, we all felt her end was unjust, a tragic finish for a beauty.

And she would have become a tragic tale, the story of a girl raped and savaged, told by wary parents to their wayward daughters. A cautionary sermon.

Yet currently she lay in the spare room, becoming one of us. All because she had deliriously begged at the cusp of unconsciousness. We couldn't blame Carlisle; and we didn't, he possessed a human heart and had only the best intentions. There had been hope this could be her second chance. She was young, and if Edward and I had gotten another chance, why had fate not delivered Miss Hale to us with the same intentions? It was indisputable.

Esme and I had seen to her needs the best we could, washing away the blood, changing her into something more suitable. A difficult task, when she was determined to scream the walls down. We had persevered to success. But even with Esme's motherly powers and soothing words the agitated blonde continued to be heard.

Eventually when there was nothing more that could be done, Carlisle called a family interview and we collected in the dining room. Sitting diligently in our already designated spots.

"I am going to apologi-"

"Don't be foolish Carlisle, we don't need an apology." I replied over a shriek, immediately regretting that it had come out so brashly. Tactical support never my forte.

"We're not going anywhere." Edward affirmed, answering a question that had not been voiced aloud.

"Of course not." I waved my hand. "I'm not leaving."

"We just have to pull together, and make Rosalie as comfortable as possible." Esme said, diligently ignoring a particularly loud scream.

"Yes, quite right." Carlisle nodded. "For a start then, it's not recommendable for us to stay here. Our proximity to the humans is far too tempting for a newborn….that is if she chooses to follow our life style."

Whether he meant to voice that worry or not, the sobriety of his words were suddenly very daunting. She would undoubtedly be given a choice, and may not even wish to stay with us. As long as we doted and enforced the rules upon her, that was all that was required of a sire.

"May I make a suggestion?" I questioned in the awkward pause. Continuing when gestured to do so. "Rosalie has lost a lot of blood; we may not even have the full three days to make our move."

"How long?" Carlisle asked.

"I can't be certain, like I said before it was never a measured experiment. But we could be looking at a maximum of forty eight hours."

"So we need to move now." Edward interjected, his response a round of agreeable nods.

"Where do we go? The house in Waynesville is not ready, it's a day's journey running. An impossible journey to make with Rosalie in her condition." Esme reasoned.

"Your houses?" Edward asked me.

"Impossible." I shook my head. "All my properties are in the suburbs, too close to the humans."

"I can be of little help either on that front, this is as far north as I have ever bought." Carlisle said. There came a moment of lingering silence; save for Miss Hales moans, where we all appeared in deep thought.

"How about Allegheny National Park?" Edward said suddenly. "There's an abandoned camp about seventy miles from Erie, it's not pretty but it was far from civilisation."

"Do you think it's still standing?" Carlisle asked, so terribly interested in the news.

"It had been there for fifty years when I came across it, I don't suppose another decade will have made a difference." He replied.

"Sounds like our best bet." I agreed. "But what about the hospital, Carlisle? They will have to be notified."

"Yes quite right….I'll write them a notice. It will need to be delivered by hand in order to get there in time, I also need to sort out the car." He ran his hand through his hair, haggardly.

"I'll go." Esme offered good naturedly. "It will be much more legitimate if the reason is delivered by one of us… but we better have a good enough reason."

"Our mothers died." I blurted out. "No one argues with the grieving."

"As macabre as that is, I suppose it is a good reason for our hasty travels." He agreed. "Right, we should pack the necessities. Once settled we can return for the rest and make the move to Waynesville. Isabella can you write to Jenks again, request blank documents? We may need some for Rosalie."

"Of course." I replied.

"Edward could I commandeer you to help me clean up the car?"

"I'll go fetch the methanol."

With jobs now delegated around, we parted ways promising that by ten o'clock this evening we would make our move for Erie. Esme; with letter in hand, left for the hospital. And while writing to Jenks, I had the joy of watching Edward and Carlisle attempt to un-upholster the seat, before giving up and burning the entire thing. Men.

Once or twice I checked up on Rosalie, grateful that as time wore on she had begun to quieten down. The human body; now unable to cope with the pain, had started to shut down. Her skin had significantly paled, not into the attractive marble of the vampire yet, but into a sickly, sallow pale. She was beautiful in human regards, a trait that I had no doubt she found especially unique to herself. As a vampire she would be stunning, yet this was a common trait we all shared. And although I was quite sure she would be a very handsome vampire, our kind had become indifferent towards the trait.

It did not fail my attention that this young woman and myself had crossed paths before, each time we had never beheld each other in any high regard. In fact I was quite sure I disliked the woman before me. But we knew nothing about each other. I wasn't aware she was the niece of Geneseo's mayor, or she was engaged. I didn't know her wedding was a month away.

All I knew was the man she had chosen to marry had left her in such a state, half dead and abandoned. And that was enough to make me angry on her part.

After replacing the cold flannel on her forehead, I set about continuing with the required work. Walking to the nearest post box in Geneseo to post my letters; any papers sent by Jenks were to be forwarded to the new house. The second was to be sent to Alaska; it was only smart to let our extended family know of the sudden change. And in case their help was required.

It was all going well so far, we had been decisive and smart with our plans. But even as vampires I feared we were in a period of shock, this after all was a drastic change to our routine. We ploughed through with supposed stately calm and poise, adapted to the carnage and the bloodshed. But it didn't mean we liked change. Adjustment meant things were out of our control, we had to rely on instinct to ensure a safe and pleasing outcome.

The wedding I had anticipated so highly was now under question, its location and date were hanging. The suitability of North Carolina was under jeopardy, for its proximity to the humans would have to be decided upon. Everything we had planned, now all depended on Rosalie Hale.

And this indisputable fact found me sitting next to my open traveling case, with the undesirable task of packing necessities and leaving behind by beloved pointless things. Because where we were heading there was no need for silk dresses, diamond earrings or fur coats. Just breeches, shirts and boots. I would not deny several ribbons were tossed in, maybe some colourful barrettes. The plain green day dress I was to travel in would do if I ever needed to venture into the city.

My half of the case was done, it now merely waited upon Edward to make an executive decision as to what he would pack. Once the rear seat was reduced to a smouldering wreck of twisted metal and ash, and the fire no longer a hazard to the house. The two came back inside, Carlisle headed straight to his office but quickly backtracked. No doubt finding Esme's hand written instructions.

"You finished yet?" Edward asked standing at the thresh hold to our room. A sarcastic comment caught on my tongue upon regarding the state of him.

"So help me God, Edward you step one foot on the cream carpet and I will kill you." I threatened, narrowing my eyes at the soot that seemed to cover him entirely. "Did you roll in the ash?"

"The wind changed direction, blew the smoke right at me." He said.

I rolled my eyes. "Go get clean, I need you to pack your things."

"Can you pass me a towel and a change of clothes then? Seeing as I will meet my maker if I attempt to do so myself."

"Here." I passed him his delegated traveling clothes. "But use the towels in the linen cupboard, you're not using the good towels." By the time he had returned, I had already packed his side.

* * *

><p>With an apprehensive mood, I watched the little blips of Geneseo's lights get smaller in the wing mirrors. It was pitch black now, the sun having set some five hours previously, and the moon hidden behind great billows of cloud. The dark never hindered us, we had hunted regardless, moved a human body into a car and set to move across the state. All under the guise of night.<p>

Edward and I had been delegated the Ford, while Esme and Carlisle were to travel in the Cadillac with Rosalie. Now the back seat had been torn out, she was able to lie quite flat, with several pillows from the spare room to cradle her head. Morbidly quite an efficient method. It must have been comfortable because she'd finally succumb to complete silence, or maybe it was the realm of unconsciousness.

The car was also quiet for a while, too fraught with our own thoughts to strike up a conversation. The silent moment gave my mind a gratifying attempt to make sense of this harrowing quirk to our plans, morbid blip in the routine. I was unsure to all of the emotions that were running through me, maybe worry played a part, perhaps some dread, and I was pretty sure a large chunk was fear.

But my fear was not directed at the creature Miss Hale was to become; I had enough dealing with such things, and even as a newborn it was still four against one. But Rosalie was an enigma, an unknown being who had such a power over this coven. Unpredictability in the nature of a new vampire could lead to a threat to our lifestyle, according to the unwritten law, it was then Carlisle's duty or the duty of the acting coven to cull. But to ask such a thing from us a compassionate family, was a horrid thought.

Rosalie had the unknown ability to destroy everything we had worked for and the values that we chose to live by, it was that thought that accompanied the fear. It all came down to how she reacted, because not everyone was cut out to become a vampire.

The rapidly morbid progression of my mind was halted by Edward's infallible timing. "Good outcome or bad?" He asked.

My reply was a quizzical look, before realising he knew me too well, and the predictability of my mind. "Bad. It always seems to take a bad turn. Care to input your own thoughts?" I said, turning on the leather bench to give him my full attention.

"My concern lies with all of us." He stated. "I don't want Carlisle to be naive about this; I know Esme was able to overcome her trauma. But we don't know Rosalie, and we certainly don't know how she's going to react to this situation."

"Well, excuse my insensitively." I began. "But she'll have to accept it, because the only other alternative is….not exactly pleasant."

"He's adamant she can be like us. I just hope he understands it may not turn out like that."

"Either way it's definitely going to be interesting." I replied, watching the farm land and occasional houses pass by. "Not exactly how I imagined our evening."

"Moving across states was not high on my agenda either." He replied.

"This place we're going to, is it nice?" I asked,

"Define your meaning of nice." He replied, sending me a sideways glance that told me not to get my hopes up.

"Electricity?" He shook his head. "Running water?" Another shake. "Please tell me it has a roof and walls?"

"Some of the cabins had roofs and walls."

"Are you taking me somewhere unpleasant again?"

"When have I ever taken you somewhere unpleasant?" He exclaimed, eye brows raised in question.

"When you found me in Toledo, you made me follow you back to that horrid little dockland building. I had to enter through the roof and it was dusty."

"That was one time, love."

"One example of what happens when you live without me. This is another example."

"Yes, but I was in the process of looking for you when I came across the camp. I had no desire to stay there, but I needed somewhere to hide during the day."

"Fair enough, I suppose that's as good a reason as any." I sighed, giving up with the tangent of the conversation and taking to slouching in my seat. "How far is it?"

"From here...about a hundred and fifty miles, roughly."

"So that's about...four hours, give or take time lost with any necessary stops." I calculated aloud, grimacing at the thought of sitting in one spot for so long. "Sounds….amusing"

"I'm here too, if you haven't forgotten."

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just too antsy to sit for such a period, running would be preferable."

"Then be my guest" He said gesturing towards my door.

"And leave you all by yourself? What kind of self-centred fiend do you take me for?" I replied, absentmindedly pulling my hair from its uptight bun and twisting an odd snarl around my finger.

"It was more a… gentlemanly offer. I wasn't actually going to let you go off alone." He said, throwing a charming smile in my direction. "With your penchant for attracting trouble, an angry revenge seeking female still on the loose, and another half way through a change, you'd better stay in the car."

"Is that an order?" I grinned.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Another chapter done and I'm slowly getting closer to the hundred thousand mark, which is a scarily big number. I always wondered how they moved so easily, setting up new identities, Carlisle getting another job….seems like a lot of work. So I wanted to address (somewhat) realistically what needed to be decided upon, before upping sticks and moving on. Then get to the good old family feuds!_

_Reviews most welcome. _


	38. Chapter Thirty Seven: Curriculum vitae

_A/N: So I confess that in my lectures on fly pupation mark 2 (due to forensics) have been spent writing out parts of this chapter, and to be perfectly honest it's time well spent. Far more productive than the guy next to me, who was trying to suck the ink out of his pen. _

_Away from my mundane life and into something much more exciting, chapter 37. And hitting that great ninety thousand word mark (only ten thousand away from the big one!) So far this is now longer that Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, which is an actual novel. _

_So to all those who are still with me, thanks a bunch. Your reviews, alerts and favourites really do keep me going and give me inspiration. One hundred and twenty one. Nice. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

_On with the chapter. _

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><p><span>Chapter Thirty Seven: Curriculum vitae<span>

There were only two chairs around the woodworm infested table. Wedged under the oddly shortened leg, an old fading pocket bible; found in one of the rickety kitchen drawers. And although the table would not have been seen within a hundred miles of one of Esme's interiors, it was currently in use as the family meeting point.

Hunched over a writing set, in one of the chairs, Carlisle wrote quickly and diligently to the medical centre in Clyde; the nearest hospital to the new house. Notification to our delayed arrival in the area was needed, the death of a relative once again made the most brilliant reasoning.

The other chair was pushed up against the window, Esme balanced carefully on the seat in an attempt to remove the hole ridden, and cob web encrusted net curtains. Layers upon layers of dusk had accumulated since the camps decommission, and now the whole cabin smelled most acridly of musk and other such neglected scents.

It had once been a state of the art vacation school, for young ladies looking for employment in large houses, but now the camp had now stood derelict for over fifty years. There were many small dormitory cabins surrounding a large communal building and small chapel, most of which were now inhabitable. But the largest of the lodges; and refuge for the schools teachers and counsellors, was still in a relatively good condition.

It still had a roof, walls and most of its windows.

The bare skeleton of a kitchen could still be made out, a living room and several bed frames were still standing the bedrooms. And the very fact that we considered this _good _was perplexing enough.

The pillows and blankets from the house had been pressed into the wrought iron bed frame, providing Rosalie with a make shift mattress to lie upon.

And with little else to do but wait for her to finish the transaction, I had taken to exploring the grounds to quench my restlessness. Managing to _accidently_ destroy the church door when I had tried to pull it against the rusty hinges. But other than decaying wooden pews, a creepy crucifix and a lot of animal remains, it was empty. Anything of value having obviously been pilfered from the holes in the masonry.

The other standing cabins were in a sorry state, and with no desire to fall through the rotten floor boards I ambled back to the others in the hopes of conversation. Passing Esme on the way back, as she headed off to hunt, after having been trapped in the car with Rosalie. She asked simply if I had found a water supply.

"There was an outside tap attached to the chapel, but it looks pretty rusted." I informed her.

"Would you mind awfully trying to fill the sink? The water supply has been cut from the faucet, and I think it would be nice to wash the counter tops at least..." She rambled off quietly.

"Sure thing, I'm sure I saw an old bucket under one of the porches..." I said, stopping when I was quite sure as she wasn't listening. "Are you alright Esme?"

The frown that had appeared across her features melted away, and she allowed a small smile to grace her lips. "Sorry dear, there is so much going on I fear I am miles away."

"Is there anything I can do?" I offered, deeming this another moment to step up and be supportive.

"Just having you here is quite enough." She said petting my shoulder affectionately.

"Esme." I began, reaching for her arm as she headed for the forest. My throat tight with a great swell of emotion. "I never got around to asking you, and I really did mean too. I just wasn't quite sure of the right time...but I would really love it, if you were to become my matron of honor."

"Oh." She breathed. "I would absolutely love to." Her hand grabbing onto both of mine and squeezing them tightly. "But are you sure? I mean...what about Tanya? The two of you have always been so close."

"True and Tanya is my close friend, but do you really think I want her tending me on my wedding day? She's not exactly...the soothing type. And anyhow you have already aided me with so much; I would feel much better if you continued to do so...whenever the wedding may be."

"Oh I shouldn't worry about the date, once everything has settled down and we get to Waynesville everything shall just fall into place. I'm quite sure of it." She replied. "And how wonderful it will be."

I nodded in response. Watching as she disappeared into the line of trees, and biting my tongue about her just how improbable her view was. And wondering if I could live with such optimistic thoughts.

After finding the bucket once again; and bending it back into its original shape, I managed to fight with the rusty tap and fill it up. Carrying the blasted thing back to the lodge, being once again greeted by the sound of a thundering heartbeat, and Carlisle's and Edward's hushed tones.

"Don't all rush to help." I joked. Shutting the rickety stable door with a bump of my hip, and careful not to jostle the water.

"I would love to help." Edward replied. "If I had any idea to what you were doing."

"Esme wants water in the Belfast. Esme gets water in the Belfast." I said, tipping the water into the deep glazed sink. "And I don't blame her, have you seen the state of the windows?"

"For cleaning?" Edward and Carlisle shot each other a confused look.

"Do you want to live in squalor? Or have clean clothes?" I said, leaving the bucket on the worktop and taking the seat Edward had just vacated. Waiting for someone to say something, when a conversation did not present itself, I made remedial small talk about the elephant in the room. "So…any change?"

Carlisle shook his head. "Other than a slight change to her skin, she's still unconscious."

"At least that's something." I mumbled. "Is there a plan of action for when it's over?"

"Esme and I have agreed to speak to Rosalie went she awakens. If that's agreeable with the two of you?" Carlisle said, resting his chin on clasped hands.

Edward and I nodded.

"But I'd like it if you were both on hand, perhaps if you waiting in the courtyard. Near enough that you are able to…step in, but not so close as to make her feel threatened." I was quite sure one of those was aimed at Edward and his mind reading, and the other at me: quite a nasty suspicious it was the threatening part. But if Carlisle wanted to do the hard job, who was I to complain.

"It's about fifty miles." Edward said, answering Carlisle's unvoiced question. "But there will probably be one in Warren."

"Excellent." He mused. "If we set up a pigeon hole at the postal office, we can at least receive our mail." Normally still reigning supreme, even if the situation didn't.

* * *

><p>Approximately a vague and unkempt forty three hours later, we were now walking on borrowed time. Systematically we kept a vigilant eye upon any little change to Rosalie's complexion, reacting swiftly to any simple fluctuation in her heart rate.<p>

From a dust free spot on the floor, contently sat with my legs out in front, I waited with a book in hand. And although I thoroughly enjoying being immersed in the landed gentry of Jane Austen's world; where vampires did not even enter the equation, each chapter end was met with a painful realisation the day was getting later and the moment of truth getting nearer.

Halfway through a chapter, Edward decided the floor was a suitable place to sit, and joined me propped up against the wall.

"What's going on?" I asked, putting my book down and looking up from the printed word.

"Carlisle thinks we should start getting ready." He stated simply, removing the book from my hands and reading the blurb. "Doesn't want us to be taken off guard."

"Right, so I should take that as my cue to make myself presentable." I resorted, slowly getting to my feet and heading towards the tiny box room that had been designated as ours.

The four by four meter room held only two bits of distinguishable furniture, the first a rotten bed frame without slats, the other a rickety bedside cabinet that had seen better days. The latter at least being strong enough to store the small collection of books and trinkets I had brought with me. But other than those unpacked items, it was safe to say we were going to be living out of the traveling trunk.

Knowing the very first hunting trip with a new born could be testing, I selected my most disposable of hunting clothes. Although crisp clean, they too had seen better days. The white shirt once belonged to Edward, and the breeches having been patched up numerous times.

Said gentleman had followed me into our room, standing diligently against the door; which had no latch and unfortunately tended to swing open. Privacy at its finest.

"Here, make yourself useful." I smiled, tossing my green dress towards him in the hopes of a little initiative. He did not disappoint.

"The word lackey springs to mind." He said, frowning at the number of little satin buttons lined along the back.

"You are my lackey." I breathed, fighting with the turn ups as I pulled on my breeches.

"Esme's happy." He commented offhandedly, safely ignoring the lackey comment. "That you've asked her, I mean."

"Good. I'm glad. She is the ideal person for the job." I said, managing to tug on the shirt with little trouble. Huffing a "Done." when I had finished dressing.

"And...what about Tanya?" He asked slowly.

"Seriously why does everyone ask that? I love Tanya, truly I do, but she's not exactly maid of honor material. And even she knows that, as long as she gets free reign to organise a night in the city beforehand. She's perfectly content. End of."

"You've definitely planned this through." He smiled, placing the impeccably folded dress in my awaiting hands.

"Do you think?" I questioned. "Other than a rough idea to what I may wear, and Esme as my right hand. That's all the plans we have, and there not exactly set in stone."

Edward nodded slowly, musing over the thought, eyes down cast at the creaky floor boards. But I continued to watch his face, in study of his drifting mind, tracing features to guise any clues to their process. Eventually the study turned to wonder, for how lucky was I to have such a handsome man as my mate. It was almost unfathomable how much I loved him; it really was stronger than any other feeling and the most encompassing of all.

It remained the type of emotion that could only be described perfectly when one had experienced it, for no amount of descriptive words could truly give it justice.

Regardless to the fact he had a tendency to be a little over protective, we didn't enjoy the same books or music, and our ability to bicker over the smallest things was legendary. Not to mention my own list of flaws. Yet I wouldn't change a thing.

I hid the cheek aching smile as I riffled thought my side of the trunk, attempting to find a simple hair pin in the mass of fabric.

"So...eloping is not out of the question then?" He said finally.

"Eloping?" I repeated. Pretending the idea hadn't passed through my mind; but I had never been completely enticed by the idea of a formal wedding. I did like the pretty dresses, the flowers and lace; in moderation. But as long as it was Edward I was marrying, the rest was just a decorative formality. "I wouldn't say no...but could I wear the dress I have my eye on?"

"Of course." He replied.

I nodded contemplating the idea. "When you say elope, I have no desire to run away like love struck adolescents."

"I didn't mean it like that." He grinned, shaking his head. "I meant at a registry office, with both Carlisle and Esme present."

"I like that idea." I confirmed. "And when will this great plan take-"

"Isabella, could I possibly borrow you?" Carlisle called from the communal space, interrupting our conversing plans.

"Of course." I called back begrudgingly, pinning my unruly bangs to one side.

I made a rather human paced move, leaving the safety of the room to face a less desirable situation on the other side. Hoping for more than moral support, I took a hold of Edward's hand, happy to find him only too willing to follow.

It immediately became clear upon leaving our bubble of niceties, that the loud thumping of rushing blood had gotten louder.

Esme stood vigilant at the door to Rosalie's room, struggling with a tempered look of foreboding and apprehension. She still managed an encouraged smiled as we entered the stark bedroom.

But there was an obvious difference, for Miss Hale looked like a vampire.

Pale, alabaster skin. Features that were almost perfectly symmetrical. And the tell-tale purple bruises, beneath undoubtedly ruby red eyes. Had it not been for the vicious pounding of her heart, and ragged desperation for air, I would have classed her as immortal.

"It's progressed quickly." Carlisle said in hushed tones.

"I deem last stage." I murmured, unable to tear my eyes away from her stiff frame. "I-I don't think we're talking hours anymore."

"She's still unconscious; there is no verbal response to the pain." Edward said.

"Doubtful that will last much longer, the progression of pain will increase as the venom finally affects her heart. She will be pulled quite violently from that unconsciousness." I summed morbidly.

As if proving my point further, Rosalie twitched most violently. Her muscles cramping in spasms, and from her lips fell the most chilling of screams. Loud enough to make me cover my ears and grit my teeth, due to the sheer pitch of noise. But the sudden barrage of sound did not stop; again and again it pierced the air. Until a sudden and defending silence rang.

The sensory overload to my enhanced hearing left me momentary stunned, and so I almost jumped from my skin when Edward proceeded to drag me from the room. My mind trying valiantly to shake of its distortion, and command myself into some kind of movement.

"Shit." I managed to growl out, almost falling down the porch steps. Lucky enough Edward was still coherent enough to hold my waist before face met ground.

"What the hell was that?" He exclaimed, pressing his fingers against the top of his jaw.

"I don't know." I responded, attempting to listen to Carlisle trying to placate the distressed blonde.

"She reacted to our voices." Edward said in disbelief

"Maybe some kind of primal scream then?" I replied, opening and closing my mouth to stop the ringing.

"Are you alright." He asked, moving quickly in front of me to make a visual inspection.

"Fine. My ears a ringing a bit, but that will teach me to stand so close to the action." I joked lamely. "Is Carlisle alright?"

"He will be fine once the ringing has stopped." He paused, concentrating on the thoughts indoors. He wants us to stay out here...but if it all goes well...we should meet them within the hunting ground."

"Well? That is wishful thinking." I murmured.

"Indeed." He agreed, his features contorting into a wince,

"What's wrong?" I questioned, gazing up intently at his darkened eyes.

"Her thoughts...they are quite abrasive now that she's coming into consciousness. Very loud." He winced again.

With an overwhelming desire to be physically closer and deliver aid, my arms found their way around his waist beneath the fabric of his coat. "Sorry." I said.

"Why are you apologising?" He smiled, tucking a snarl of my wayward hair behind my ear.

"I'm not sure, it just seemed appropriate."

But merely moments later the light-hearted situation turned cold, as the constant pulsing of blood through veins and arteries suddenly stopped.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Yes Rosalie is alive (metaphorically speaking), I am very excited about the next chapter, and finally all this build up for a character introduction. I've reached my ninety thousand word target, tied up my loose ends and ready for 38. _

_So reviews are welcome._


	39. Chapter Thirty Eight: Renasci

_A/N: I have been waiting with baited excitement to write this chapter, and I have written out so many plot plans. But as soon as I begin to write the plans go awry, and it decides to write itself. I just hope the direction is a good one, I attempted to make it as accurate to real life (somewhat hard when you're writing about mythical creatures) I mean how does one react to being told you are immortal, I'd imagine denial, lashing out? _

_Slowly reaching that great big one hundred thousand mark. So as I do in every chapter (because it's damn right) Thanks for the reviews, alerts and favourites. Reviews give me the motivation to sit down; ignore the boring University paper (that I hope will finish its self) and keep on writing the fun stuff. _

_I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga, but I did see the film and approved. _

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><p><span>Chapter Thirty Eight: Renasci<span>

May 4th 1933

There was nothing wrong with being a pessimist; in fact I deemed it a key survival technique. To anticipate an undesirable outcome made sure one was always on guard, and prepared for when _said_ outcome became undesirable.

Knowing the many possible things that could go wrong the moment Rosalie was informed, it was only natural to run through the worst and then hopefully be pleasantly surprised when they turned out a little better.

Edward and I stood stoic, hands clasped together in deathly silence. Both listening intently to the scene that was about to unfold inside, not daring to make a sound. We fixed our senses on the sudden deep intake of breath, followed by the rustling of fabric, as the new vampire made a move.

"Miss Hale." Carlisle addressed her delicately.

"Where am I?" Came her throaty growl.

"I know you're scared Rosalie." He attempted to placate her, speaking deliberately quietly and slowly. "But you're safe."

"Where am I?!" She growled louder.

The on goings indoors; though merely sound based for myself, acted out as a scene of thoughts for Edward. And from the way he frowned, and fell into a slightly dipped stance of preparation, all was not well.

Rosalie was eventually given her answer; she was informed to her location. There were no lies, no gimmicks, just the truth. Yet it seemed it wasn't enough.

"Why?!" She proceeded to panic. "Why am I here?! What have you done to me?!" It was followed by the sound of splintering wood, a half sob half howl.

"I know you're scared." He repeated again. "But please allow me to explain."

She remained silent and he continued. "When we found you Rosalie…you were in a very bad way. You had lost a lot of blood; more than a human body can recover from."

"What do you mean more than recover from?…Are you trying to tell me I'm dead?!" She interrupted, laughed shrilly. "He murdered me….and this is some kind of purgatory."

"No…we managed to save you, but-" He paused, trying to find the right words. "You are different now." Proceeding with the best of care. "You have become like us, my family and I."

"I don't understand. You speak in riddles. Tell. Me. Why I am here." I admired her adamant control; upon my own awakening I had already attempted to kill my own creator within the first minute.

"Rosalie look at the bedpost in your hand."

I guessed she did as instructed. "It's broken? But how?!... m-my hands, they're so pale."

"My family and I are different, like yourself we have also encountered death and survived. But we are not the same as before, our time has been stopped and we…we live as immortals now."

"No!" She growled. "No. You lie. You are playing me for a fool!" There came a great explosion of sound, the unmistakable noise of vampire hitting vampire. Edward was gone from my side in a flash, and I close behind. The rickety door was ripped from its hinges in our haste, as we took in the scene before us.

Carlisle was rising from his predatory crouch, Esme pulled safely behind him. Both now located in the kitchen, the gaping splintered hole in the wall proof they had travelled through it. Crouched rather awkwardly, gazing in horror at her own hands and breathing haggardly, was the blonde.

"It's okay." Carlisle said to all in the vicinity, checking upon Esme's wellbeing before dusting the wood shards from his clothes. "No harm done."

Rosalie eventually decided to look up from her internal monologue to gauge the new threat; she swept her gaze quickly from Edward to me. I never smiled, never moved or showed any such emotions on my face. But whatever it was that I had done, she was livid once again. I hardly had time to react, when her beautiful face twisted into an ugly montage of features.

"You!" She spat. Fingers curling and nails sharp as she lunged for me. But no matter how hard Edward tried to move to intercept her, he was no match for her at this moment. She barged her way past him, quite nimbly for a newborn.

At first I attempted to sidestep her, planning to move around the back and take out her legs. But there wasn't enough space in the tiny kitchen. We met in a deafening explosion of bodies. Predictably her hands made straight for my neck, with this predetermined I managed to deflect the potentially lethal attack by slamming my forearm into her throat. She sailed quite gracefully thought the external wall, skidding along the muddy courtyard and back into a crouch.

"What the fuck?!" I hissed, lunging toward the blonde in the hopes of killing the bitch. Round two was cut short as I was detained by a force behind me.

"Enough." Edward whispered, linking his arms though mine as I attempted to break free. Some words I believe were exchanged between Carlisle and Edward, but I was too angry to register the conversation.

Before I could even make an attempt to slip through his arms, I was being forcefully dragged out the back entrance. Eventually when this resulted in little yield, he resorting to merely lifting me by the waist and carrying me out. I vigorously protested. It was too little avail, as we moved further and further away from the camp, deeper into the forest and away from our already pre-set hunting area.

"Where the hell are we going." I fumed out, trying to pry his arms away from their tight embrace.

"To hunt." He replied tensely.

"Put me down Edward." I growled.

"No."

"Put. Me. Down." I stated.

"Calm down and maybe I'll consider it."

"Fucking bastard." I spat.

"Calm."

We didn't speak for a while, continuing to make tracks further into the wilderness. Until the trees grew tall and straight, and the tops of their canopies almost blocked out the moon's light. Eventually, when we were far enough away; and I had no chance of out running him, we began to slow.

Reminiscing over the series of most unfortunate events that had just occurred, I judged that although Rosalie was a psychopathic bitch, maybe I could have handled my anger a tad better. Although I deemed self-defence over the fight; which it was, perhaps trying to instigate another round was partially my fault.

I felt for Carlisle, not for one minute did I think this was how he imagined the situation unfolding. Even I didn't quite picture her having so much pent up anger for me, I assumed petty dislikes were usually forgotten after enduring the change. Whatever that reason be, I had definitely misjudged the situation, along with Miss Hale's obvious distaste towards me. My first reaction would be to hold onto that grudge as long as possible, wait till she came from her newborn high, and then kill the bitch. But that didn't exactly follow Carlisle's philosophies or social convention.

"I'm calm now." I sighed. "Not going to make a great escape."

He did as requested, allowing me to drop to my feet and brush the creases from my rumpled shirt. There was no escaping the tear upon the sleeve, where her nails had made a grab for me. "God I hate newborns." I mumbled.

"There is little love lost for you either." Edward acknowledged.

"But why me?" I questioned. "I'm not the one who decided to inform her of her death. I was standing perfectly stoic, wearing my least offensive face. The neutral one."

He shrugged unhelpfully. "She felt a surge of anger toward you and attacked, there was no thought process. Merely acting on instinct."

"Well bloody fantastic, she hates me with a passion and I don't know why. You can't placate an angry animal unless you know what's making it angry." I ranted, kicking flat the shrubbery to prove my annoyance.

"You needed to hunt." He pressed.

I began a defying resort, but the overwhelming bout of hunger related pangs struck. Undoubtedly bought on my induced rage. "Fine." I huffed, stalking off to find something to drink.

* * *

><p>"Can't we just set her free?" I asked. "Carlisle's probably done the hard bit now, and once he's explained the rules, we've technically done our job."<p>

"Do you honestly believe for one second that it would be successfully?" He questioned, slightly distracted by his attempts to relocate Carlisle and the others.

Traveling upwind supposedly put the task in our favour, but seeing how we had only a vague idea to the direction they were heading, it was virtually impossible. And unfortunately a very necessary task. Storming in unprepared would only serve to aggravate an already livid blonde, now hyped up on animal blood.

"No, but it makes me happy to think about it." I admitted.

"Makes me happy too." He agreed quietly. "But let's at least attempt to be civil, if not for her sake at least for Carlisle and Esme."

I agreed whole heartedly. My willingness to retry and attempt to remain civil with Rosalie stemmed from a desire to make things bearable for the people I actually cared about.

Upon finally making it back into the prearranged forest glade, and standing idly listening to the great expanse of wilderness for far too long, the sounds of distant footfalls finally came into range. Exceedingly light and nimble, we identified their owner as Esme; for newborns rarely avoided trampling everything is sight.

She adjusted her slightly west course, heading now straight towards us. With no sign of Carlisle and the newborn, one could only ponder what had happened. It was not until Esme broke into the clearing wearing her most troubled look, did we really begin to get concerned.

"What's going on?" I asked, knowing Edward had already plucked the answer from her thoughts.

"Carlisle has taken Rosalie back to the camp." She began.

"Has she hunted?" I questioned, letting down my hair and tugging absentmindedly at the messy strands.

"Yes...however she has not taken to the news...as well as we would've hoped." Esme replied despondently.

"She hasn't tried to attack you both, has she?" I inquired tersely.

"No, she's been quite sedate since Carlisle told her. I think she's just struggling to come to terms with it all. Which is quite understandable." We nodded in agreement, no doubt going back to that same time period in our own pasts.

"We should head back." Edward said.

"Yes of course." She nodded, as if suddenly remembering where she was.

Along our own hunting trails we followed the path back toward the lodgings; and although eager to get back to Carlisle, the air of reluctant tension weighted heavy. It was a run permeated by small idle talk, eagerly filling the gap of uncertainty regarding this reattempted introduction.

As soon as the camp was in sight we slowed to a stop.

"I think it's best if you carry on Esme." Edward began. "A forewarning about us will hopefully eliminate the chance of startling...or angering her. We will follow on in a couple of minutes."

"I shall go let them know." She affirmed. Gracefully planning her route through the undergrowth, as she neared the small abandoned cabins that formed the outskirts of the camp.

"And so we wait." I muttered, gazing at the small flickering candles visible in the window of our current home. You could also just make out the vampire shaped hole in the wall, and the great skid mark across the courtyard.

"If this doesn't work out I say we go exploring, come back when it's all blow over."

"Where would we go exploring?" He humoured, holding tightly to my hand as we bantered, eyes firmly on the cabin in the distance.

"Anywhere. We could go north, see Canada. Figure out what the middle states of America consist of. Maybe even go west; Washington is supposed to be one of the wettest, cloudiest of all the states. Or how about a visit Alaska?"

"We're not going to Alaska anytime soon." He said.

"Why not? I'm sure Tanya has evicted Laurent from her coven by now."

"Well until I get that in written or verbal form, I have no desire to visit."

"Look at us, making adversaries where ever we go." I remarked, leaning closer to him in an attempt to get a better vantage point on the cabin.

"Justified." He replied.

"Always." I said.

The minutes ticked by slowly, and with no sign of an angry newborn on a rampage. We decided it would be relatively safe to head back. Carefully walking at a sedate human pace across the yard. There was nothing to hear but the conversing tones of Esme and Carlisle, and silence from the latest addition to the coven.

Edward proceeded to enter first, casually greeting them both, before undoubtedly beginning a recon session through people's thoughts.

I did not dither at the door, instead acted on an impulse of bazaar confidence. "Good morn." I greeted.

There came a barely audible growl from one of the bedrooms.

"Productive hunt?" Carlisle questioned, forgoing ignorance to Rosalie's anger.

"It was...successful." I replied, doing my upmost to remove the cynicism from my tone.

He nodded, before returning to his task of examine a large map overhanging the small table. Tracing his fingers from Allegany to a southern destination. I presumed it was North Carolina. Playing a macabre game of dot to dot with the national parks and forests, a route that wouldn't bring Rosalie into contact with any humans. But from the way he tapped his finger agitatedly around the Pennsylvania, Maryland boarder there was a snag in the plans.

"It's not worth the risk." Carlisle announced quietly.

"Then we don't risk it." Esme replied simply. "I'm sure we can find some…suitable temporary accommodation. Move when it's less of a risk." She glanced towards Edward and I, gauging our reactions to her proposal.

"Sounds like our only option." Edward stated.

"The papers I requested from Jenks have been sent to the house, we are going need new identifications to purchase another property. I can travel back to Geneseo to get them; I may as well pack up the rest of our things while I'm there."

"If you don't mind Isabella?" Carlisle questioned.

"Not at all." I smiled. "In fact I think it would be quite beneficial." Tilting my head towards the room Rosalie was vacating. He nodded in understanding.

"I guess there is no time like the present; I'll go get freshened up. Esme if you make a list of everything to want, make sure I don't forget anything." She agreed, immediately setting to work compiling it. I retreated from the family discussion to my room, glad to see everything was intact and Rosalie hadn't taken her vendetta out on my things.

"You know, I'm not sure I like the_ 'I' _in this plan." Edward said, moving into the room after me and closing the door behind him.

"We don't exactly have a choice." I whispered, wanting to keep this conversation within the room. "You and your mind reading….thing, are best to stay here. It's not right leaving Esme and Carlisle alone, I have a feeling Rosalie is going to be difficult."

He nodded begrudgingly. "I still don't like the idea of you traveling all that way alone."

"I don't like it either." I confessed. Realising it would be the first time we had been parted for so long. "But it will be no longer than three days."

"No getting into trouble, promise me that."

"I promise." I said. Moving to hug him fiercely, and finding no such desire to leave. "Best behaviour."

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><p><em>AN: And the blonde haired bitch is alive, kicking and attacking everyone in sight. So just generally disrupting the order and routine. Although if some crazy pale Doctor just told me I was immortal, I'd probably kick his ass too, that or cry. _


	40. Chapter Thirty Nine: Caveat Viator

_A/N: So much inspiration I have had to write this chapter, your reviews have given me the big push needed to sit down and type down all those ideas floating around my mind. Because there are many, and they seem to come to me at inappropriate times, when my laptop is far away, and there is no pen or paper to hand. _

_But to address a review (Holidai, super excited to get a long review.) I don't truly think Rosalie believes it's Bella's fault, but when something goes wrong people tend to look for someone else to blame. Mix in a person you're not all too keen on (who also happens to be very beautiful), with blood lust, and there is going to be a smack down. Rosalie is going to get her comeuppance, the spoilt little beauty is going to be put in her place. As for the Edward/Rosalie thing….not in my story . She maybe a stunner, but her minds is as rotten as they come, and I think he is the only one who truly sees how self-centred she can be. After all 'beauty is only skin deep.'_

_So thanks for those reviews, alerts and favourites. I do love getting them._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Thirty Nine: Caveat Viator<span>

Since leaving Allegheny national park some four hours previously, the weather had been delightfully dismal. Driving in lashings of gale force rain had been an arduous task, as the box like shape of the Ford weaved most violently in the winds. And the slower I was forced to drive, the further my mood turned sombre.

The storm now brewing in the distance and heading most unfortunately in my direction, had cut short the radio signals and flooded the car with a noisy static. But I couldn't bring myself to turn it off, knowing that as soon as I did so, an uncomfortable silence would set in. And an aching sense of loneliness would prevail.

I had always prided myself on being independent, living by my own rules and not those of a dictator of a sire. A timid reintroduction to the human world had been my own doing, and over time that had yielded financial security.

And then upon being independent, I had been attacked by a blood thirsty newborn with bizarrely coloured hair, closely followed by another strange gentlemen. And then without me realising it, I had become dependent on them.

Only four hours had passed since I had left the people I loved most, and it appeared my assumed trait of independence was below my expectations. No matter how much I berated myself over how silly it seemed, the loneliness of the situation would not subside. And arriving at the house; knowing full well no one would be there, brought dread.

It carried with me as the familiar haze of light appeared on the horizon, and the roads became ones I had travelled down hundreds of times. I spied the houses of our neighbours, the strangely build town hall with its clock steeple, and the tiny grocers with its tacky lime green awning.

All too quickly the hidden entrance came into view, and down its curved drive the great colonial house unveiled itself. Even in the dim light of the dawn, its white washed cladding and cream shutters seemed the make the house glow eerily from its green surroundings.

It had only been several days since we had made our sudden departure, but it felt so very much longer. I missed the little quirks of the house, having my own fully furnished room, and bountiful luxuries close at hand. One truly did not appreciate it all, until one was reduced to living in camping like squalor.

I did not dally from the car, wanting to be out of the rivets of rain as quickly as possible. Forcing the key into the lock with such strength, it shuddered in protest. Slamming the door before the rivers of water ruined Esme's Persian rug, and taking off my shoes as precaution.

The lights flicked on with a simple flip of the switch, chasing away the early morning darkness, and politely addressing the novelty of electrical lighting. Everything was precisely the way we had left it, nothing out of place. But it seemed so very quiet.

Hoping most frivolously the more powerful house wireless would do its job, I attempted to find a decent frequency to fill the quiet. Several of the local stations were nothing but white noise, but the stronger international ones were being picked up. Eventually after trying to find the clearest one, I settled on a comic drama playing on CBN. Its humour was dry at best.

With voices humming in the background I set to work on the tasks and Esme's list. First clambering into the attic to find the strong moving boxes, and coming face to face with the large painting of the Volturi.

Stored up there for _safe_ keeping. Unfortunately it wasn't upon the list, so it was going to have to remain here.

Into the boxes went clothes, towels and linens, folded and packed tightly. Anything of sentimental value, collections of jewellery, books and records. Items that had personal value to ourselves and could not be simply replaced, all put away with hordes of wrapping tissue to ensure their safe transport.

Throughout the day closing up the house took up my time, the boxes were stacked by the door. Furniture and items not being moved, had to be dealt with. The multitude of crockery, antiques and paintings were put in the cellar. Dust sheets ready for the larger pieces, once the hearths had been swept and cleaned.

Into the second day of menial tasks; and when the storm had blown passed. I journeyed to the mailbox at the end of the drive, intent on collecting the mass of letters. Flitting through bills and junk mail to find the important letters. Carlisle's note from the hospital was almost lost in the pile, like so many others it was written on simple white paper with uniform typewriter letters. A complete contrast from that of the Denali's, theirs was bulky and plastered in numerous colourful airmail postage stamps. I recognized Eleazar's scripted handwriting on the envelope, being much more eligible than the females of his coven.

It was the first letter I set about replying to, using the official Cullen writing set, I began by sedating their qualms. Explaining in more depth than the previous letter just what had happened, where we were staying, and our plans for the immediate future. I made sure to keep my own opinions from the family letter, saving my slander for Tanya's personal one. If there was anyone I could count on for a good slander it was her.

The letter to the hospital was easy, the chief of medicine had simply sent his condolences for our loss and wished us the best of luck in the future. I send a letter of thanks, expertly forging Carlisle's handwriting.

I was less delighted to find a note from a courier service, telling me a large package; that had not been signed for, was now being housed in Geneseo's postal office. And there would be a dollar service charge for everyday it remained there.

No part of the plan involved integrating myself with the town rabble, and the idea of a swift clean get away was slowly diminishing. But I presumed from the fact it wasn't amongst the others, and knowing his penchant for caution, I deemed this was Jenks doing.

I bathed, changed and made myself look smart in jet. A black velvet cloche a finishing touch for a vision in mourning. Then out onto the street I walked, head down and out to avoid every other living person. But my eyes did not fail to drift along the visage of the mayor's house, the home of Rosalie's maternal family. I didn't know what I expected, maybe black drapes in the windows, some kind of evidence to their mourning.

I had to remind myself that they were not aware of her death, there obviously had been no body found. And unless Rosalie's murdering fiancée had confessed, she was merely another missing girl in the big city. It had only been a couple days since she had disappeared, maybe there was still hope amongst the community for her miraculous reappearance.

I prayed to the higher forces not to cross paths with a relative of hers.

Other than passing several cars heading towards the city, I did not come into contact with any humans. Making it to the postal office moments after they had opened.

"Good morning." Came the greeting.

"Good morn." I replied, walking slowly to the desk and remembering breathing was a necessary trait.

The small stacked woman, of approximately fifty years, appeared from her sorting office duties. She raked her narrow blue eyes over the black clothing, before merging her features into something that attempted to resemble condolences. Although a perfectly lovely woman, she also happened to be one of Geneseo gossip links. Mothers with grown children, who had nothing better to do than swap stories.

"And what can I do for you today?" She queried.

"I received this notice in my mailbox." I replied, passing her the offending item. She took it with her surprisingly nimble fingers, making appropriate noises as she read the note.

"Yes, yes I know the one." She declared, shuffling slowly into the sorting office to find the parcel. "Must be quite important, the postal courier was quite worried there was no one to sign for it."

"Yes quite important." I replied, almost rolling my eyes at her attempts to divulge gossip from me.

"Here we go." She beamed, looking like she had accomplished some great achievement. "Safe and sound, not a crinkle in the package. I doubt it would have been in such good condition if it had been sent to one of those big post offices in the city, very impersonal they are."

"Exceedingly." I smiled. "How much do I owe you for your trouble?"

"Two dollar service charge." She responded.

"Can I take two books of stamps as well please?" I requested, beginning to count out the correct change.

She began to ring up the charge on the crank till. "I haven't seen your sister of late...is she well?"

I wondered how long it would be before the family was asked about, I applauded her for hanging off this long. At lease she had the dexterity to be casual about asking. Indulging such a key member of the gossip ring would mean the whole town would be informed of our departure. "I'm afraid she shall not be in town for a while." I declared with mock sadness.

"Oh why ever not, my dear?"

"Well." I began, looking most down cast. "We were notified several days ago my mother's sickness had taken a turn, and sadly she passed away."

"I am so sorry, my condolences to your family." She responded with genuine concern.

"Thank you. She had been sickly for quite a while; it's just a pity we could not be with her...all that way in England."

"Of course it is such a very long way." She nodded, gathering as much information on the Cullen family as possible.

"The solicitor said it would be best that we make the journey to London to sort out her estate, I suspect the package contains all our travel documents. That's why we shan't be around for a while. And now my brothers been offered a new job, we are quite displaced at the moment." I was happy to oblige the information.

"Such a shame, I know the town are so very fond of your family. You must tell your brother, there is no finer sense of community than in Geneseo. He must take that into consideration before moving you all." She continued.

"Yes, you are quite right; I have said the very same thing." I lied, tucking the packaged under my arm and wishing her a good day.

"Now you be mindful how you go Miss Cullen." She warned. "After goodness knows what happened to that poor Hale girl, you can't be too careful."

"I shall." I replied tightly.

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><p>The package that had caused me so much hassle, did indeed contain some travel papers, as well as passports, birth certificates and other such necessities for beginning another new life. Of course these were not exactly legal, mostly blank documentation ready for forgeries. But everything was accounted for, and of quite high quality; which I came to expect after paying the man more that an amble amount.<p>

Yet amongst the papers, in a slightly crinkled envelope addressed to myself was a private letter.

According to a rather long and rambled note, I managed to deduce the main gist. And it appeared Jenks had gotten into some trouble with a local Cleveland gang, they had entered his offices and demanded protection money. Jenks; never one to invoke a fight, had decided to up and move. The details of said move would be sent to me in due time, in fear that the package would be intercepted.

He gave the gang more credit than due, I seriously doubted they were smart enough to intercept a package. Maybe some of the higher status mobs, but they usually targeted large businesses, not some petty suburban lawyers office.

So the panic; and profuse apologies for the late delivery, came across all too comical. I made sure to keep it safe in my coat pocket for Edward's amusement.

I had promised him a maximum of three days, and hoped most gallantly I could make it home by the next dawn. Only two days away and I could barely function, so many times I had made a comment out loud, only to remember I was completely alone. I missed Edward's profusely protective nature, him lingering around and deliberately getting in my way. I missed his company, and the way we tended to gravitate towards one another. I missed how happy I was when with him, and how much I hated this incomplete feeling when away.

I deemed sadness was at play. And felt completely sorry for myself.

My usual love of books bought me no mind, for I could not physically sit for long enough, or become emerged in their stories. Attempts to pass the hours until nightfall, were void of any real productiveness. In the end, ambling round the house finding odd jobs to do became the only way to pass time.

But luck was upon my side, for the complete blanket of grey cloud that had settled over the day, covered any sign of a sun set. And I was elated to find, that come 7 o'clock, darkness had begun to creep its way along the eastern horizon. And the safety of traveling at night came ever closer.

At an unnatural pace the small mountain of boxes and trunks were crammed haphazardly into the Ford, some taking up the seats, some in the boot and two or three even taking up the footwells. It all came with the knowledge, the sooner I hit the road, the sooner I'd be reunited with the rest. So little time was wasted in locking the cream window shutters, turning off the water and closing up the house. And by half past the hour; without dwelling too much on my parting with the house, I began the arduous journey back to Allegheny. With the hopes of a reciprocated reunion from some, and making peace with those I had parted with on unfortunate ground.

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><p><em>AN: So not the most exciting of chapters, but I love writing about the little back stories that intertwine with the main plot. Odd things that happen, and how people deal with them. Getting in a mention of 'that poor Hale girl' became a plot bunny, along with legitimately going through the trouble of a move. And a dash of the history of Jenks senior (who I can confirm is running away to Seattle, in an attempt to escape his gang troubles) _

_Oh and the Latin title (because I haven't done this in a while) Caveat Viator, is roughly translated to 'Let the traveller beware.'_


	41. Chapter Forty: Reditus Domum

_A/N: Forty whole chapters and finally I have reached my one hundred thousand word mark. I honestly confess this originally was meant to be twenty five chapters at most, just exploring what would happen if Bella was already a vampire. But then it started to write itself, the plot became deeper and I wanted to delve into the development of her relationships with the other members as they came along._

_I wish I could say I am half way through this story, but I will also confess to have no idea. The end will come to a natural close when everything is said and done. And at the moment, that point is far into the future._

_I say it every chapter, thanks for the reviews, alerts and favourites. _

_And as always I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga. _

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><p><span>Chapter Forty: Reditus Domum<span>

May 7th 1933

Still within the boundaries of New York State; merely an hour and a half into the trip, the little white needle on my gas gauge hit its pin. Pointing most flippantly to the 'E', and arrogantly eliminating the tiny petrol pump. I knew filling up the tank would be necessary eventually, but it seemed far too soon into the journey and I had not even reached the half-way point yet.

Although the motorcar advertised a thirty mile leeway; before completely running out of fuel and ceasing to function, the Model A was notoriously unreliable. I had little patience for a breakdown, time would be wasted having to have it towed, and another half day added to my journey. Not to mention some small town mechanic charging me a premium rate.

In a sudden determined search for a gas station, I passed through several small farming communities, annoyingly too small to house a station. And it was a full ten miles later, and several unfortunate stutters from the engine, before the town of Franklinville delivered my needs.

The gas station itself was located on the edge of the dinky village, void of any neighbours and sitting pretty next to a tributary. But one could only describe it as a mere shack, build from an old farm building, with a strange corrugated iron veranda added on. The old gasoline pump stood lonely to one side, almost lost in the sea of advertisement signs. The only reason I could possibly fathom for leaving the car was the cheap gas, twenty cents plus one cent tax. I'm sure I could stretch to that.

Once safely under the metal canopy and with the engine cut, I waited patiently for the clerk to appear. Pulling on my hat to cover my face from the rather garish electrical lighting. After a couple of minutes of waiting, my patience got the better of me, and I confess I may have beeped the horn. But once again when no one appeared, I began to wonder if I should venture into the building.

There was visible light through the dirty window panes, and I could hear the noisy generator outback, providing a somewhat primitive power source. Feeling nothing was going to be accomplished without a little initiative, I grabbed my purse and readied myself for a perfect damsel in distress act.

But no sooner had my 'Miss L' clad feet hit the asphalt, I came to the awful realisation this wasn't a self service station. And whatever had happen to the clerk, probably had something to do with the stench of vampire that still managed to overpower the smell of gasoline.

I dithered by the car, keeping the door open and deliberating a form of action.

Other than the strong scent of one of our kind, there were no sounds to announce the presence of anyone inside. I stepped cautiously from the forecourt, assessing the collection of trees behind the station, but once again there was no evidence to suggest anything vampiric hiding in the shadows.

In deliberation, my need for gas out weighted the possible danger. I came to the conclusion; it was most probably a random vampire simply passing through the area. And getting myself some gasoline wouldn't take more than a couple of minutes.

The motorcar door was locked behind me, and I slowly made my way into the building. Wincing at the shrill little doorbell that seemed so popular in shops, and announcing my arrival so loudly.

My assumption a vampire had passed through were indeed correct, unfortunately for my sudden; and rather out of character optimism, this assumption was naive. The room had been ransacked. Cans of tinned food and popular snack food were littered across the floor, crumbs and sweet fruits mashed into the floor boards. The shelves and units were almost ripped out, reduced to a heaped collection of wood. There were visible claw marks along the length of the walls, cutting the old wool insulation to ribbons.

But those trivial things were completely overshadowed; instead my attention was caught by the sheer amount of crimson liquid splattered up the walls, upon the ceiling, and on every surface. The intense buzz of hundreds of little flies sounded loudly, as hordes of them bathed in the viscous liquid. In a raging tandem I too found myself intensely enraptured by the red patterns.

The scent of day old blood was still enough to pull me in; I felt my chest heave with the pressure of instinct. And I could almost sense the colour of my irises changing from dark topaz to coal, a painful assertion of slipping control.

With constrains failing, my body became seemingly independent, lurching its way forward to find the source. My hands shook manically and nails became talons ready to tear into something. The burning that had settled so fiercely in my throat, roared deafeningly as I stalked towards the great crimson puddle.

Any item in my way was reduced to nothing. Disgusting human food was squashed under foot.

But it was upon coming across the source I most keenly desired, did the reality of the situation come to light. Because the figure lying haphazardly across the floor, had most definitely been there for a while. The putrid smell emanating from the corpse was enough to force my beastly side running, for as much as we yearned for blood; the mere scent of rotten flesh was enough of a deterrent.

The cold temperatures may have kept the blood it its liquid form, but it did nothing to deter the decomposition of the body. Through the doors I fled, running as fast as possible into the trees and as far away from human civilisation as possible.

The car keys jingled constantly with each stride I took, setting a fast paced rhythm out of time to my run. The irritation of the noise was enough to fuel my anger; several of the closest trees were struck into submission as I flew past. Three days void of a hunt and so much spilt blood, was asking for trouble. I considered myself lucky there had been no more humans in the near vicinity.

I continued running until I was quite sure Franklinville was out of sight, and there was not a building within my five mile radius. It was only when I came to the secluded forests, that the reason behind the corpse became so clear.

The whole woodland space was covered in vampire tracks; although faint from the rain, their sheer repetition over the geography was apparent. Clinging to the ground and trees. But one stood out from the rest, one I had come across before. The fiery smell of cinnamon that preceded her presence, a track belonging to a certain red haired vampire.

With that determined everything was beginning to unravel.

Some small independent newspapers had reported on random wildcat attacks in the state, it had been look upon as merely animals trying to survive. With the summer droughts affecting much of the region, bears and other large carnivorous mammals had been spotted closer to residential areas in search for food. But those reports had now become very suspicious, and it suddenly became very clear these were not mere animal attacks.

It seemed Victoria had been closer than expected, and she had possibly gathered a few friends since the last time we had seen her.

Franklinville; like so many in south west New York state, was a remote little village. Houses were far apart and secluded in farm and woodlands; a prime area for hunting humans. I dreaded to think how many houses off the beaten track had been targeted, the number of dead humans rotting in their homes.

She hadn't fled far, stationed in between our old hunting ground of Letchworth and the new Allegany State Park. And who ever she may have been traveling with had a complete disregard for stealth. Choosing a gas station was a risky choice, a pit stop for many humans. Luckily, someone had the _great_ idea to savage the building, so at least it appeared like a wild animal attack.

But as long as Victoria didn't cross my path, I was content to go about my business, and then continue on my journey. No attempting to hunt her down in an act of heroic stupidity. I'd continue in the motorcar, minimising my tracks towards home. And inform the Denali's to give New York a wide berth in the near future.

My hunt was reasonably successful, managing to accost a herd of rather skinny looking deer and putting the weaker members out their misery. Not wish to linger around; although there were no recent tracks, I deemed waiting for trouble was just asking for such. My promise to Edward was still standing, and I most definitely wanted to keep it that way. So upon reaching the car once again, I held my breath, began a mental mantra and self-served the gasoline.

Feeling awkward about the one dollar seventy six I owed, I left it atop the pump. Sincerely hoping who ever discovered the body could at least get themselves some free gas.

With that annoying little detour adding time to the trip, it was now eleven in the evening and I was still two hours from home. My desperation meant a slight disregard for the speed limit, and pushing the car over its recommended top speed. But the result was well worth the illegality of the situation, and within half an hour I had hit the edge of the national park.

At far gone midnight I arrived back to the squalor of our current predicament, almost running from the car in my haste. Rosalie be damned. But once again my hopes were dashed, and the literary like reunion I had so envisioned was met with an empty cabin. A written note to say a hunt was taking place.

So I was once again left to my own devices. Exploring the slight changes that had been made to the cabin. The hole in the internal and external walls had been patched up, hardly a professional job but it would suffice. Esme's washed net curtains were back up, now white instead of the previously yellow and dirt encrusted version. Around the table an extra two chairs had been added, from the looks of them most probably found in another of the huts.

Being rather inquisitive I spied the multiple stacks of paper on the table, and while reshuffling them into neat piles, I was intrigued to find they were housing descriptions. I presumed from the one on the top of the pile, it was the most highly rated. There was nothing truly special about the property, a small wooden clad house with a porch, but I supposed location was the key feature this time. Four bedrooms, kitchen diner, living room and even a basic bathroom with running water. No electricity though. But what did one expect when living in the middle of a national park.

I toyed with the idea of removing things from the car, but decided Edward and Carlisle could do the honours.

As the minutes turned into a full hour, my impatience soon began to grow. I had written a rough draft of warning to Tanya and company, telling them to keep vigilant for a certain red headed foe. I then began to forge the documentation from Jenks; leaving Rosalie's empty until I knew what to add.

Even changing out of my traveling clothes, just to pass the time. I was however, delighted to find my previously worn hunting shirt had been washed, and the hole along the seam sewn up. I didn't even have to fold anything; everything was immaculately neat and ordered. But upon adding my dress to the pile, I noted the little detour had not looked kindly on the fabric. It smelt quite strongly of gasoline, dirt and the scent of rotting flesh. A smell that had a tendency to linger.

With no strong washing powder, or boiling water to hand, and a newborn with an even more enhanced sense of smell. I deemed burning the offending item the quickest way to deal with it.

The rotting chapel door made fine kindle wood, and behind the back of the cabins I soon had quite a fire going in an old oil barrel. I stood well away from the smoke, allowing the wind to take it in the opposite direction. Watching it burn with fascinated curiosity, and a touch of fear that was oh so primal. As the fabric began to curl inwards and turn charcoal, the tranquillity of the early morn echoed with far off running and murmurs of voices. I left the fire to burn out, deciding to go wait on the veranda.

Unconsciously, I smoothed out the creases in my blouse, ran my fingers through my hair and hoped my appearance was satisfactory. Patiently I waited, wondering if Rosalie would be in a more rational mood this time around. My willingness to endure the last few minutes were soon rewarded, and from the forest they arrived.

I was happy to see they were all alive and well. "Good morning." I began. "Productive hunt?"

There was no surprise at my appearance, I expected no less. Our greetings were civilised and friendly; I swapped an embrace with Esme telling her everything on the list had been accomplished. While the rest went inside, I noted Edward linger.

"Three days and I didn't get into any trouble." I said, giving an intended quick hug that turned into something much longer.

"I forbid you from leaving again." He murmured quietly. "If you do, promise me we can go together."

"Promise." I replied. "It was far too strange being alone."

"So you missed me?" He asked coyly.

I felt the bite of a sarcastic resort, but for once I swallowed it down and decided an honest reply was the best kind. "Yeah I missed you, talking to myself did not reap the same rewards."

"Good to know." He acknowledged. "And if it's of any consolation I missed you also….but I have to ask, because I love you, what are you burning behind the cabin?"

"Nothing bad." I declared. "I just had a very…interesting encounter on my way back."

"I thought you said no trouble." He questioned pointedly.

"I did." I replied, pressing my thumb against the frown between his eyes. "No trouble, just something strange that I came across. But it's something I wish to discuss with everyone."

He nodded in agreement, and into the main communal area we joined the others. I was surprised to see Rosalie sat within the room, although not at the table itself, her chair was situated close by. Her ruby red eyes followed me from the moment I entered, and would not relent in their scrutiny. Other than that she was verbally quiet towards me.

"And any news from your travels?" Carlisle asked good naturedly.

"Some very interesting news." I replied , preferring my standing advantage with a newborn in the room. "We shall have to be mindful over our documentation use for the foreseeable future, it seems Jenks has decided an impromptu move is needed."

"Where is he moving to?" Esme inquired.

"Oh but that's the good part. It seems he believes a local gang is targeting him, so has decided a quick move is needed. He hasn't notified me of the location in case the letter gets intercepted." I rolled my eyes as I once again relived the stupidity.

"Has he sent us the current things we need?" Carlisle questioned.

I nodded. "Yep, everything is accounted for."

"Now about the whole burning thing?" Edward pressed.

"Patience I am getting to that part." I chided with a smile. "On my way back I came across a rather….gruesome discovery." Everyone in the room became deadly silent, and seemed to listen with baited breath. "I stopped for gas in Franklinville, about an hour out of the city. It's a tiny village, made up of isolated farm houses. When no gas clerk appeared I went into the station….it seemed the area had been ransacked by a couple of vampires. And one of those trails I recognised as Victoria."

"Victoria?" They all seemed to exclaim.

I had not made direct contact with Rosalie since entering the building, instead considered her out my peripheral vision. But now, with the intent to answer her question, I regarded her in new light. She looked better, a new hunting outfit, hair tied in a pretty braid. And had it not been for the insolent scowl upon her face, she would have appeared quite approachable.

"Victoria is another of our kind, a vampire that does not share are dietary believes. She and her former mate made trouble for our extended family; the Denali's, and then proceeded to make trouble for ourselves."

"Trouble?" Rosalie echoed, raising a perfect brow in challenge.

"Yes." I stated plainly. "They refused to heed our land claim over the area, and that made them fair game."

"We, of course, gave them plenty of opportunity to leave the area." Carlisle interjected quickly, trying to soothe the words that came so bluntly from my mouth.

"Indeed they were given plenty of chances." I agreed. "But they had no regards to the rules, having caused Tanya so much trouble in Denali. It is that type of….disregard that gets vampires into trouble with the likes of the Volturi. And no one wants that."

Rosalie needed no explanation to who they were.

"To cut a story short, Victoria's mate was destroyed in the exchange and we presumed she had fled the area." I summed.

"You said she was with others?" Carlisle quizzed.

"I can't be definitive, but there were several tracks alongside hers. However the area has always been known as a key route to Quebec and the south of Ontario, it could simply be other nomads traveling through."

"We had better inform the others." He continued, tapping the tips of his fingers together.

"I've drafted a letter, but I've never been tactile at delivering news. Perhaps you'd be best doing it Carlisle."

"I'll get right on it." He replied.

When it was clear the conversation was over, Rosalie was the first to depart from the communal, taking swiftly to her designated room with not so much as a glance backwards. As no one made a comment over the behaviour, I deemed that this had become something of a regular occurrence. Her prude nature was something of an annoyance.

"I'll start bringing in the boxes." I announced.

"You know you still haven't told me what you were burning?" Edward whispered from behind me, as I grabbed the ignition keys from my coat pocket.

"And you make it sound like I am burning a body." I mockingly exclaimed, pulling him along outside.

"It would not be the first time." He attempted to mumble.

"You are such a bastard." I joked, punching him in the arm.

"And yet the lady doth not protest."

"Help me get the boxes and maybe I will indulge you… but forewarning it's not a fun kind of story."

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><p><em>AN: I'm happy to have gotten this chapter out in little over a week. The family is back together, and Victoria is off having her own little adventure. So here's to the hope of another hundred thousand words, and many more followers, alerts and reviews._


	42. Chapter Forty One: Exspecta Inexspectata

_A/N: Another chapter up and away, into the hundred thousands I have begun. Back in my home town where it's even colder than London, dealing with the festive season and a Christmas tree that is far too big for our entrance hall. I really hope to have another chapter out by Christmas….no pressure there; but we shall see how plausible that is when I get my work times. _

_Thanks for all the reviews. I am trying to answer each one again, because if you have time to review I should take the time to answer. _

_Caroline, apologises for the ten bucks (that is such a good word, bucks….makes me what to keep saying it), I too have been a victim of addictive fanfics and low data limit. They just don't take the need to read into consideration. Thanks for taking the time to review._

_demilovato4eva, hoping to clear up some questions for you. Victoria is….well of hatching evil plans. Rosalie's dislike for Bella is coming to a head. And as for the burning thing, she was burning her dress after it smelt like rotting flesh (sorry if that wasn't clear.) Thanks for the review. _

_CullenBoy123, Thank you for reviewing. Alice is a favourite of mine too, I cannot wait for Jasper and Alice to join….but that seems like a while away yet. Hold on I will get there eventually._

_MentalAsylumNewbie,_ _Matthias Stormcrow, thanks for the reviews, they made me immensely happy. _

_I'm hoping we can reach that amazing 200 mark at some point. But of course no reviews without chapters. _

_So here is my disclaimer: I do not own the right to the Twilight Saga._

_And here is the chapter….._

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><p><span>Chapter Forty One: Exspecta Inexspectata<span>

Printed on the pale pink wallpaper was a frankly strange mass of cream peonies, every two flowers across had one directly above in a recurring pattern that was far too floral for my liking. But being a temporary situation, the wallpaper was far from a main concern. In fact we were quite fortunate in our new situation, although the house may have not been our usual choice; in size and style, it was charming in its fashion.

A simple white washed wooden house, with flaky green painted shutters, nestled amongst the trees. So hidden in the greenery, it had quite the story book ideology surrounding it.

The elderly lady, who had previously tenanted the house, had left to live with her son in Buffalo. With no need for the furniture, we were able to purchase the house fully equipped. And although her taste was a little dated, it was more convenience than anything.

Out of the three bedroom in the house, Edward and I were designated the back room, complete with its floral wallpaper and squeaky window frames. Carlisle and Esme had the master room, and Rosalie the single at the end of the corridor. Since moving into the house but two days ago, Rosalie had yet to depart her room. Esme had attempted a reconciliation session, delivering a clothing catalogue for her to pick and choose anything she desired.

The ungrateful little brat had no thanks to spare for Esme's trouble. She may have been going through a turbulent time, but a little civility towards someone so kind was not too much to ask.

While Carlisle and Esme were all too hospitable to her needs; ignoring her verbal strikes and ignorant behaviour. I confess that Edward and I were on a different page. Many a time I held my tongue, reminding myself she was still an unstable newborn. But her self-centered thoughts perturbed Edward to no end, and in turn my patience for her situation began to wane. I attempted not to cross her company; or what little company we had, instead went about my business as normal.

"Carlisle wants to know if you're finished filling out your papers? I told him I didn't think you had." Edward announced, traipsing into our room.

"Almost done." I replied. "I was contemplating a new birthdate. Having a summer birthday was so bothersome last time."

"Bothersome? You requested we weren't to celebrate such - and I quote you- 'pointless occasion'." He said.

"Yes, but Tanya was oh so kind to mind me, people have come to expect gifts on the occasion of their birth. Just because I don't know the exact date of mine, shouldn't mean I have to miss out."

"I should have known Tanya was involved." He muttered, before artfully side stepping a well-aimed swipe from me. "I suppose I should go ahead and ask, why not summer? I thought it was your second favourite season?"

"Even though you are being sarcastic- indeed summer is my second favourite, but winter means cold temperatures, the increased chance of poor weather and so the ability to go out as I please." I shared, standing on the bed to further prove my enhanced reasoning.

"July thirty first, done and done." He responded, lying back haphazardly on our bed with his feet planted on the floor.

"July thirty first? Why that date?" I asked, deliberately bouncing on the mattress corner to annoy him.

"You said summer...what's more summery than the middle of the summer?" He replied, attempting to grab my legs.

"Hmm I was thinking more along the lines of August fifth ." I said off handily, successfully evading his quick hands.

"Then go for that." He added.

Upon making no attempts to grasp my legs again, I stopped my own childish jumping game. Intending to locate and complete my birth certificate, and add in a new birthday of August fifth. Unfortunately I did not react quickly enough to the beginning of round two, and as his fingers curled around my calves, I could only muffle a shriek as my back hit the mattress.

"I win." He grinned.

"I believe that is called cheating." I responded, trying to pry his fingers from their grip on my leg.

"And you my love, are a sore loser." Came his answer.

"Sore loser." I muttered. "Bloody cheek." Mussing up his already ridiculously unruly hair.

Once I had successfully extracted myself from our usual tête-à-tête, straightening out my crumbled appearance and brushing my messy hair. Wild and tangled from Edwards response to me messing his own.

I found the final papers, awkwardly weighted down with a vase to stop them blowing away in the cross wind. Upon the small pine vanity almost hidden amongst the scattered of menial items, I found a suitable pen and completed the form in record time.

"Done." I announced, brandishing the thick watermarked paper like a trophy.

"Good. Carlisle is off to Erie, he wants to know if you want another bank account opening." Edward replied, attempting to flatten his hair.

"Another account, I suppose it is quite a good idea. Having a small fortune hidden under the floorboards is never a good idea. But it's always useful to have money on hand..."

"So that's where you keep it all." He mused.

"Some. The rest is in our offshore accounts, courtesy of Jenks and his...interesting accounting methods."

"So yay or nay to the account?"

"Yay. Three quarters may as well go and gather some interest, the only thing it's doing at the moment is gathering dust." I declared. "I don't have to be present for any of this, do I?"

Edward shrugged unhelpfully. "Carlisle will undoubtedly find a way around it."

I nodded in agreement, knowing Carlisle's ability to convince and gain trust through words were legendary.

"Would you mind passing me the case? Please." I gestured vaguely to the armoire, my attention focused on straightening out the creases in the duvet. He did as I asked, unusually skipping the comment about me being far too short to attempt it myself.

With the case open and ready, I was able to rediscover my brown paper bound fortune, underneath the floorboards below the window. Delicately gathering dust and cobwebs, even after only several days. Around three quarters of the stash were forced into the traveling case, packed geometrically to fit them all in.

"These humans better know what they're doing this time?" I mused, clicking the fasteners closed. "The last savings account I had was lost in the recession."

"I'm sure they have learnt from their mistakes." Edward countered. "There are so many regulations in force by the government; I don't think speculation borrowing is even legal anymore."

"Well I'm glad. But there is nothing wrong with a little speculation, per say, it is when people start borrowing money that's not their own that the problems starts." I said, tightening the leather straps. "Humans really set themselves up for such problems."

Our conversation was comically silenced dead, as the sound of a door opening echoed loudly from down the hall. Identified by the slight creak of the wood as Rosalie's room. From the moment her footsteps sounded on the carpet, Edward was onto her thoughts, his face a usual look of slight concentration.

"Hunting." He whispered, so very quietly I had to gather the answer from reading his lips. We remained in awkward silence until she was half was down the stairs, sharing a look of apprehension. "Looks like we're going out." He said finally.

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><p>The great billowing grey clouds were gathering along the horizon, sailing in our general direction with quiet loom and a clear promise of a down pour. And although rain was usually an enemy of mine, the feeling of running in it was exhilarating. The excitement of pushing against heavy rainfall as you hunted was just something that seemed to enhance the experience tenfold.<p>

Now one crucial member down; for Carlisle had departed for the city, the three of us- and Rosalie- were left to plan and execute a successful hunt. Although as per usual Rosalie was void from any input, alienating herself from the group seemed a much more important priority. As we deliberated on the best trails to take; all for Miss Hale's benefit, she did nothing more than look on with little interest. It seemed the topic was of such an inconvenience to listen to, her nails became the only respite to the tediousness of it all.

Her disregard for me was palatable; it was no great loss and not something I would dwell over if she were to...go. But to ignore the kindness and compassion of Carlisle and Esme, in my mind was unforgivable. Other than Edward; for we were bound together as mates, they were perhaps the only two I would openly pledge my loyalty to. And when it came to the mixed and confusing world of emotions, I was clear in my emotions towards them. Carlisle liked to label us as a family, and although sometimes I didn't use the term, it was real enough.

My first real family. And if some blonde haired bitch honestly thought she could disregard the wisdom of Carlisle, with some two hundred and fifty years' worth of life experience, and Esme with her ability to love unconditionally. Rosalie had better start being grateful, because she had two very loyalist vampires who were not above killing for the family.

So I stood far away. Not trusting myself, for a Freudian slip was likely to have been administered, and that was merely the tip of the ice burg.

Edward; having been in the area before, suggested a southward hunt would reap the benefits of the wildlife living around Minister Creek. So in the opposite direction of the approaching clouds, we launched into the thickets of the trees in search of a meal. We took to the natural formation, Edward slightly in front, myself to his right and slightly behind and Esme adjacent to me. We often lost sight of each other in the thickness of the trees, but having hunted together on hundreds of occasions it was easy to keep tabs on each other.

It was the addition of a newborn amongst us that simply complicated the matter. She ran to Esme's left, flitting from in front to behind, but keeping quite a substantial distance between herself and the rest of us at all time. This distance meant the run was stagnated with the tedious job of keeping watch on her.

And one could not help but wonder if she was really cut out to be a vampire, it seemed she was so blinded by resentment towards this life, that not a single moment of enjoyment could be found. Resentment turned people bitter, and no life could be lived without a little enjoyment. At least, that is what I had come to find.

My musing were disturbed by a distant rumble of thunder that echoed loudly overhead. A calm north wind had now changed into a gusting south, and blew rather warm for this time of year. The luck of running into a hunting wind brought an abundance of smells, and within minutes Rosalie was gone, Esme peeling off after her to keep check up on her activities.

Already in the sphere of hunting prowess, the moment a target came within my senses I bolted towards the source. Making the necessary adjustment in speed and trajectory, as the steep banks of the creek came into view and I was forced to make a jump. Landing into a run and immediately changing directions, as the herd bolted east.

Through the trees the flash of brown elk fur became visible, their huffing and panting only served to increase my desire for the litres of blood in their circulatory system. Incessantly more intelligent than the mammals I preyed upon, it only took a quick sudden move into the trees and an attack more attributed to a bird of prey to bring down my meal. They could not outrun something they could not see or sense.

The large bull that crumbled beneath my weight fought for a while, but as his forty litres of blood were sucked away, his strength diminished and eventually it all came to a silent end.

I had not aimed to take down such a large animal, they were usually difficult to apprehend and drinking through the tough muscle proved somewhat of a mission. But at least I was thoroughly satisfied; there was no need to prey upon another.

The journey back was made all the more enjoyable by the beginning of the rainfall, although slow at first, for the tree canopy caught the most, it soon pervaded and fell. Thunder that had followed the rain now boomed loudly with the dark clouds. I ran with the rain and wind blowing at my heels, retracing the path in which I had come, hoping to find the others.

Fortunately for myself, find another I did. Unfortunately it was not the person I was hoping, and I came upon the last person I ever wanted to be alone with.

"Rosalie." I acknowledged.

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><p><em>AN: It seems higher forces (myself) are conspiring against Bella, forcing her together with such a person. Like I said, I will try my hardest to get the next chapter out by Christmas, if all goes well. If not it will be just after. I'm not the quickest writer. _

_So reviews welcome. And happy holidays. _


	43. Chapter Forty Two: Duo Bellus

_A/N: So I have done it, successfully written this chapter before Christmas. I honestly don't know how some authors get their chapters out weekly; it took so much effort to get this written and out on time. They must have super human writing powers, or maybe I'm just ridiculously slow. _

_Thanks to my reviewers, we are slowly inching closer to the two hundred mark. I'll keep up the writing if you keep up the reviews. And thanks to all those who have the story on alert and favourites._

_CullenBoy123: thanks for the review. I cannot wait to write the chapter with Rosalie's revenge, because who doesn't like to read about her over theatrics? _

_Matthias Stormcrow: ever faithful reviewer, I hope this chapter answers your question._

_Xxvicky2freshxX: thanks very much for the compliments; I always love Bella/Rose interaction. Especially when you have a no nonsense, frankly violence loving vampire, taking on the egotistical blonde. _

_viola1701e: indeed I can safely assure you Rosalie is about to be put in her place._

_alice: here's the update_

_So without further ado, I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

_And on with the story._

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><p><span>Chapter Forty Two: Duo Bellus <span>

"Rosalie." I acknowledged, lingering cautiously in between the pine and black cherry trees.

She stood straight from her relaxed stance against the tree trunk, uncrossed her ankles and regarded me with a rightful wariness. I did not make any move to approach, happy in my current standing.

"Is Esme around?" I asked carefully, listening to the sounds of the forest in the hopes of Edward and Esme being nearby. But other than the rain, wind and rustling of the leaves, all was silent.

"No." Came Rosalie's tight lipped reply.

I fought the frown threatening my brows, and succeeded in forming an impassive look. "Has she gone to hunt?" I tried again.

"Yes." She said bluntly.

I loathed the way she watched me with her ruby red eyes, her lip barely concealing a curl of indignation. Such insolence from a newborn would not have been tolerated if this had been the south, Horace would have no qualms about killing such a problem child. This however was not the south, this was the Cullen way. That brought about a kinder ideology when dealing with problems.

But that did not mean I should have to feel awkward in my own home, I should not have to tip toe around a problem. "Do you have some kind of issue with me, Rosalie?" I questioned out right.

The catechism cut through the air with accusing accuracy, and void of any type of tack for interrogations, yet I didn't regret the bluntness of my words.

"An issue?" She bit, her eyes narrowing into mere slits.

"Yes." I confirmed. "You have shown an obvious dislike for me from the start. Why? What have I done to offend you so?"

She did not reply, but regarded me with a cold calculating look. A gaze I had seen upon many a foe.

"Look, I'm not the type to beat around the bush, if you have a problem I'd rather you said." I stated.

One side of her lip curled upwards, and I could see her muscles straining as a desire to take action set in. "Little Miss prim and perfect, acting all innocent as per usual." She spat.

"Is that what this is all about?" I queried mockingly. "Is it honestly jealousy? Is that what this is all about? Just because someone more beautiful took away your appointed crown?"

I never got an answer, but I assumed it was partially correct because she was too busy lunging for my neck, charging straight for me with her newborn speed and strength. It was all so quick that I barely had time to side step her body, instead finding myself indented within the large trunk of a tree. A roar of animosity ripped from my chest, muffled as her hands wrapped tightly around my neck.

"You bitch." She hissed in my face. "It's all your fault, everything is your fault. Miss Cullen this, Miss Cullen that. That is all anyone ever talked about; even he was obsessed with you."

"What are you going to do? Kill me over such a trivial matter?" I wheezed out with a laugh.

She brought her face closer to mine, with the intent of another remark. But did not anticipate my forehead slamming into her face, as simultaneously my free leg kicked her legs straight from under her. In a move that I had perfected numerous times, I slipped from her grasp, wrenching her arms back and forcing her face down to the ground. I placed my knee in between her shoulder blades for leverage.

Through a barrage of hisses and profanities she struggled underneath my grip. "Rule number one; always assess an opponent's fighting prowess." I growled haughtily at her, shunting her arms into their sockets, enjoying the creak they made, before removing my knees and backing off.

She flipped into a crouch, rolling her shoulders back into their joints. Apparently my warning was not nearly enough, for she was back into a charge.

This time I was better prepared, balling my hand into a tight fist that made immediate contact with her sternum as we came within striking distance. She crumpled quite gracefully to the ground as her breast bone cracked under my knuckles. I was unable to avoid her swipe, and in turn took a claw mark to the cheek.

The venom in my skin stung as it knitted itself back together, but vanity was far from my mind as I took her neck into the crook of my arm. Her nails clawed incessantly at my arms, in a failed attempt to get free. The emotion that accompanied such a fight was so overwhelming; I had to display my best self-control against the urge to rip her neck from her torso. I forced my foot into the back of her knee joint, stopping her from getting to her feet again.

"I am sorry for what happened to you, Rosalie." I addressed her. "But you know nothing about me, you know nothing about the things I have done, about the things I have seen. I will warn you vehemently against taking me on; because right now you are lucky I am Miss Cullen."

She merely hissed and gritted her teeth.

"I may be a bitch but I'm not completely heartless, and I understand how hard it is to enter into this life."

"No you don't…. You're a fucking monster." She hissed, struggling harder.

"Hypocrite." I laughed. "Are you any better? Coming at me like some kind of psychotic animal, at least I can vouch self-defence."

That seemed to have the desired effect, for she went quite silent and stopped her incessant attempts to get free. I really didn't want to remove my arm from around her neck, it was a ploy I had seen many a newborn use, before turning round and re-attacking. Yet the situation just seemed…rather awkward.

So with the ultimate caution, I removed my threatening stance and backed off into the trees. Leaving her to slowly get back on her feet.

Rosalie made no move to attack again, but warily kept her eyes on me at all times. The silence between us was deafening, the rain, wind and forest all seemed so quiet under the pressure of the atmosphere. Knowing our _relationship_ had taken in even greater hit, I decided to try at least make her understand.

"I'm sorry." I began, brushing my sodden bangs away from my face. "I'm sorry that I have made you feel inadequate, that people have compared you and I. And I am truly and deeply sorry that you have been delivered into this life in such a way. But you have to understand that none of that was my intention."

Her eyes continued to watch me, and I wondered if my words were making any difference at all.

"But please, understand something about the humans. They see what they want to see; in their eyes we are perfect. When in reality our kind is completely flawed." I continued. "I mean look at me, am I as perfect as they said?" I asked rhetorically. "Because at no point in their comparison to perfection, did they mention me being a psychotic bitch most of the time."

The left side of her lip rose slightly.

"Even you can see I'm not perfect. I've done things that I'm not proud of, hurt both innocent people and the ones I love. I have a tendency to think the worst of a situation, act in anger and malice. I'm not perfect, I never have been and I never shall."

"Then why?" She half hissed half spoke. "Why was he so obsessed with you?"

I sucked in a breath. "I can't reply definitively, and I can't give you answers. However, I have come to find humans are fickle creatures, and beauty to them often resides at skin level. Although I cannot tell his mind set, I can tell you- and you may not want to hear this- but he was a bastard, he was the type of human I would have no qualms about changing back my diet for."

"Changing back?" She echoed quietly.

"Like I said, there are many things I'm not all too proud of."

She was about to reply, when poor timing interrupted, and through the rain we could hear dainty footsteps approaching. As Esme came closer, the progress I felt Rosalie and I had made dissipated, and I was disappointed to find she had become emotionless once again.

But maybe there was hope for her yet.

* * *

><p>"You got into a fight again?" He whispered, as we lingered far behind the others.<p>

"It wasn't a fight." I responded. "A little self-defence and a scuffle."

"Well this _scuffle_ certainly had her disgruntled; she was not impressed by the head strike and shoulder shunt."

"Yes well, I'm not above underhand self-defence." I said quietly, dodging through the clusters of pine trees.

Looking back on the conversation, I wondered if my tactful approach was indeed the best thing to do. Being head strong had always been a flaw of mine, rushing into a situation using brute force rather than intellectual sensitivity. And I confessed to being in two minds. On the one hand I could have made things ultimately worse, or maybe some tough love and home truths would work in her favour.

With these thoughts rattling Ioudly in my mind, I came to the horrible conclusion that I actually cared.

"Don't mention anything to Carlisle and Esme." I requested. "I don't want to worry them over a mere disagreement."

"I won't say a word, but Esme is already suspicious." He replied. "She did not expect to find the two of you together."

"Believe me, I didn't expect it either." I muttered, twisting the fabric of by blouse until water ran from it. "She is a complicated one, and I don't rightly understand her."

With a large enough gap between ourselves and the others, they made it back into the house far before us. My own run towards the building was barely hindered by the garden fence, with no patience for the gate I vaulted straight over it. Careful to avoid a strange gathering of garden ornaments; remnants left by the previous owner.

We were quick on our feet to avoid spilling water over the wooden flooring, fighting our way up the stairs to grab the big towel. I confess to having cheated and deliberately pulled his shirt to slow him down, but with waist length hair it was a valid claim.

The tiny hearth in our room was lit, and although not substantial in its size it did a good job in bellowing out the heat. The brass fireguard; that I had slated for its rather ugly nouveau stamped pattern, had come in handy to hang our wet hunting gear.

I noted myself listening out for Rosalie several times, but she had returned to her hermitage with no signs of coming out. It would take time to distinguish if our relationship would get better.

"Let's go into the city tomorrow." I declared suddenly, throwing my hair brush onto the bed when it became obvious the tangles in my wet snarls were not going anywhere.

"The city?" He questioned, moving behind me to place his chin atop my head.

"The city indeed, it has been ages since we last went out together."

"True." He stated.

"I'm taking that as a yes." I announced, threading my fingers through his own.

"It would have been yes, even if I had said no." He replied. "So where to this time?"

"Well I always liked the playhouse." I began. "It had the most beautifully decorated private box." Recalling the hidden seating that I had occupied on many occasions; to entertain myself away from the direct masses of humans. "Or I hear the city just opened a new theatre."

"I suppose the Boston Store is of no concern then." He scoffed, turning me around so I could see his all-knowing face.

"Well seeing as you mentioned it…." I started, attempting to pull my most innocent face.

"No way." He said simply, shaking his head to further prove his point. "I'm not about to be dragged around a department store, they are always full of fictitious humans, with more money than sense. And the staff members are always so over attentive."

"Fine." I muttered, knowing I could not win this argument, for his dislike for buying clothing was famous. "You're an incompetent shopping partner anyway. I'd rather have Esme."

"Well she is a much more favourable companion for such…boring excursions." He responded.

I pushed my fingers against his own. "We are talking, but have yet to decide upon a plan."

"What's the weather forecast?" He replied, pushing back against my hands.

"Overcast, but fair. Warm north westerly wind, thirty per cent chance of precipitation." I repeated from the radio.

"How about the zoological gardens then?" He tried.

"A menagerie? Does that mean it has wild animals?" I questioned.

"I believe that is the function of a zoo." He stated slowly, throwing me a quizzical look. But when the blank look I replied with didn't answer his question, he took to verbalising it. "Are you trying to tell me you have never visited a zoo?"

I shook my head. "Not within my memory. Do you think there will be elephants at the zoo? I always wanted to see an elephant. "

"Right, plan decided upon, we are going to the zoological gardens."

"Nice." I acknowledge happily.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I hope the confrontation has been pleasing, I honestly love writing arguments and fights. Doing a degree in forensic science gives you an unhealthy obsession with injuries and gore._

_But a couple of things to elaborate on:_

_Bella mentions a playhouse; this is in reference to Erie Playhouse. The community theatre group was founded in 1916 by Henry B. Vincent, but moved to several different locations throughout the century. In 1933 it was located on West 7th Street between Sassafras Street and Peach Street._

_The second mentioned was The Warner Theatre, commissioned to be built by Warner Bros in 1929. And opened April 10, 1931 with the premiere of the film 'The Millionaire'._

_The Boston Store is a former department store located at, 716–728 State Street in downtown Erie. At the time it was Erie's premier department store, the public were attracted to the high quality merchandise and fairly reasonable prices. Its most distinguishable feature is the large bronze clock, coining the popular phrase "I'll meet you under the clock."_

_Fin_

_Oh and happy holidays. _


	44. Chapter Forty Three: Celer Nuptiae

_A/N: Happy New Year, I hope everyone has had a good one so far. Come April 16__th__ this story will be celebrating its two year anniversary, honest I can't believe it has been so long and I still have so many faithful readers. I can safely say this story is not a short one, and my love of descriptive words is somewhat of a hindrance to my writing. But I'm not giving up on my baby (for that is what it has become) it will be completed I can assure you that!_

_CullenBoy123: (Always happy to see a familiar reviewer.) I'm glad you liked the little 'scuffle'; I do so love writing fight scenes. Thanks for another review._

_Matthias Stormcrow: (Another familiar name.) Short and sweet, merci beaucoup for the continued support. _

_alice: Typing as fast as my rather slow style (inhibited by Christmas and the New Year) will allow, thanks for the review!_

_Guest: Indeed Rosalie is unhappy (and a jealous bitch.) But even as unhappy as she is, I think it would be foolish for her to leave the Cullen's. I don't believe she is that naïve, having been told the stories of the Volturi she must understand the benefits of being part of a coven. With a temper and disposition as difficult as hers, she wouldn't last five minutes within the real world. Not to mention making Bella's life a misery is an added bonus. Thanks for the review. _

_TDL25: Thanks for taking the time to review. And of course I shall continue, I have started and will never admit defeat. _

_jodie: Thank you for the kind review. I can't say when we will be seeing Alice, but her arrival is slowly getting closer. _

_demilovato4eva: Thanks for reviewing again! And here's the chapter. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Forty Three: Celer Nuptiae<span>

May 21st

Overcast they had said, a blanket of thick grey cloud they had predicted, it turned out to be a null lie. For three days the sun had shone hot and bright, burning through high wisps of cirrus clouds. The days had been warm and pleasant for the humans, while we had been forced to seclude ourselves indoors. Hiding in the house like social recluses.

The size of the small house did nothing but exaggerate the number of people within it, and several times trying to find a moment to yourself became a mission.

I suppose, as a creature that usually found great fortune in living a nomadic life, I should have been out in the wilderness entertaining myself with such frolicking activities. But there was really only so much one could take of incessant skin sparkles; being distracted by your own dazzling flesh while running was void of any real amusement. The amazement wore off pretty quickly.

So three days were spent doing intellectual activities, and also those that were not so intellectual…like playing poker. Once Edward had been ousted- for he used his ability to become a renowned cheat- it turned out Esme's ability to play was second to none. And try as we may, neither Carlisle or I could break her winning streak. The scene even attracting the likes of our residential hermit, idly watching from the side-lines. I think a smile may have even broken her lips, when Esme had Carlisle bested eighty dollars.

Yet upon the beginning of the twenty first, the cloud did indeed cover the entirety of the sky, and the prediction for precipitation had risen to eighty per cent. So, for the first time in a seemingly long while, I was able to adorn garments that were not made for gentlemen or horse riders. The soft feeling of an expensive white silk blouse, replaced the heavy wool of breeches, and tough leather boots changed into chic T-straps. Having never found my missing umbrella, Esme was kind enough to lend me her pretty new blue coat with the large hood. An item I had admired for a while.

My engagement ring; that had spent its time on a chain tucked into my corset, finally saw the light of day on my finger.

With the weather holding its cloudy forecast promise, we went forth in the Ford, towards more exciting ventures in the city. I tried not to appear so overwhelmingly happy at the prospect of leaving the house, but visiting a zoo and even the necessary trip to the bank had made me foolishly excitable over the day's plans. Even the definite probability of rain could not dampen my spirits.

From the house to the edge of the national forest, the road was notoriously bad. It was not until we reached the town of Warren that they became completely tarmacked, and even then the number of prolifically deep pot holes did nothing for the tires. I attempted to anchor myself to the bench; in the hopes I could stop the incessant bobbing.

"If we are going to continue living in the wilderness, can we please hint to Carlisle that investing in better suspension is really a must." I moaned, narrowly avoiding punching a hole in the roof with my head.

"You say that, but I bet you have become fond of this car." Edward responded, rather skilfully dodging the sun visor.

"Yes." I replied rolling my eyes. "If the meaning of fond and loath have exchanged their definitions. But I was fonder of the model T…now that car had dexterity. Even when you had to reverse up hills, and couldn't drive until the engine had thawed in the winter. At least it was reliable when it did run."

"I'm sure you can still purchase the old Ford, plenty of dealerships still stock them." He replied.

"I said I was fond of them….I never said I liked them." I said bluntly. "Plus, Esme and I have already decided upon our Packard. There just hasn't been a good time to go look at them, not with Rosalie joining us."

"I believe that is possibly the first time you have used her name without following it with a profanity." He pointed out.

"Yes well…maybe we got off on the wrong foot." I replied.

"Although her mind is not something I care to divulge in, I can say she has thought about what you said to her."

"And has that changed her disposition towards me at all?" I questioned.

"I honestly don't know." He said. "Her newborn emotions make getting a decisive answer unclear."

"Of course." I acknowledged. The first couple of months were nothing more than a span of time imprinted with a lust for blood, and new emotions that were hard to control. Anger was easy to come upon, and in many cases acted effectively in protecting yourself from more experienced fighters. Then as the months passed, the haze of lust began to slowly clear and real emotions could slowly creep back. But the time period in which this transition took place, was completely unique to every vampire.

Rosalie had been with us less than a month, so any disagreements would be addressed with anger and blown in their proportions. Her current emotions were unreliable in their accuracy, so once again in such a society bound coven, we had to wait and being patient was key.

"Do you want to stop in Warren now? It may not be so busy at this hour." Edward questioned, as the road began to improve, and the small town at the edge of the forest came into view.

"I suppose." I replied. "One cannot be rife about a day trip, without first a little work."

It was with great ease I was able to collect several letters from the postal office; there was no wait or unnecessary tête à tête. The whole process was quick and painless, and I was able to grab the mail and make it back to the motorcar within five minutes.

As per usual the great padded envelope with its floral boarder, and numerous airmail stamps was opened with gusto.

"Dear all." I began, reading Eleazar's letter aloud for Edward's benefit. "Happy to know things have mightily improved since we last exchanged letters…..blab….blab insert general chit chat about everyone's welfare."

"I'm still fine." Edward added.

"I'll add it to the reply." Acknowledging him, and continuing on with the note. "After some two letters ago, the troubles with your new member came to light, and we became set upon the idea of traveling down to give our aid- Tanya never said a thing." I muttered.

"You seemed surprised." He laughed. "Tanya and her penchant for unannounced calls."

"Hmm." I replied, remembering a snowy day and her sudden appearance. My eyes then continued to scan over Eleazar's overly scripted handwriting, quickly reading through their plans to travel to us in mid-May. Stopping when I reached the reason behind the delay.

I dropped the current letter into my lap, instead tore through the envelope in search of the elaborate note. On pink rose paper I found what I desired, quickly reading through it and getting my information.

"If you are going to get so enthralled by a letter, please do read it aloud." Edward stated, I could already sense his eyes rolling.

"Dear Bella." I started again, stumbling over the unusual nickname she had coined for me. "I had planned for us to go out into town before your unfortunate nuptials." Edward clicked his tongue in distain.

"And hearing you are once again in Erie thrilled me greatly. For where else could we instigate such torment, than on that of a former wet city."

"Torment?" He questioned.

"Hush." I waved his question away. "But alas it is by such a miscreant, a son of a bitch, a bastard-"

"She has such a way with words." He muttered.

"That have dragged me away from celebrating your last days of freedom." I went on.

"She does know you're not dying." Came his exasperated reply.

"For he; the bastard who has been nothing but a leech upon our coven, has once again fled- I do believe that she is referring to your favourite person." I told him.

"Well then, I implore her use of such profanities, Laurent is a bastard."

"Has once again fled. Normally I would praise such good luck befalling us, but for some unbeknown reason Irina has gone after the bastard. Kate and I; along with her rather shaggy looking beau, are making plans to drag her home. Kicking and screaming if need be. By the time you get this letter, I will be off gallivanting like a nomad. Wish me luck, for it would seem fools are running amok in my coven. Yours tragically Tanya." I finished.

There was nothing wrong with Eleazar's turn of events, in fact they were always far more descriptive and unbiased. However if one truly wanted to engage in the true feelings of the Denali coven, it was far wiser to seek the bias end.

"So they are not to pay us a visit." Edward concluded.

"It would seem that way." I responded, attempting to place the letters back into the slightly savaged envelope.

"So there is no longer a hindrance stopping our….unfortunate nuptials." He mused aloud.

"Just an angry vampire who needs constant supervision." I resorted. "And would probably like nothing more than a little sabotage."

"Well she's under supervision right now."

I stopped trying to force the letters back into the envelope, instead tried to gage if it was a humorous joke I had failed to get. "I'm not sure I understand what you're insinuating." I stated finally, tucking my legs up on the leather bench and fixing him with a narrow stare. "But I think it's something insane."

"Go on." He prompted with a smile, taking his eyes away from the road to match my gaze.

"I think you're implying- and please stop me if I'm wrong- that we get married today."

"It's like you can read my mind." He joked.

"Edward." I protested. "Your cracked, that's impossible, impractical and not to mention completely preposterous. Did you fall and hit your head?"

"Impractical and preposterous maybe, but never impossible." He replied, turning back to the road when the exit to the highway loomed in the distance.

"Really." I replied disbelievingly. "And do tell me how this plan could ever work? Because for one I wanted to have a dress, not mentioning the fact I've already asked Esme to assist me. And don't even get me started on a location." I edged closer to him on the bench, tugging at his collar to further prove my point.

"You always liked living next to the great lakes, so there is really no better location. The city is filled with more shops than I care to think of, I'm sure we can find something to wear." He responded, not even faltering over my reasons.

"And what about Carlisle and Esme?" I resorted, my mind already answering my own question.

"You and I both know they will understand." He said. And I did, I knew that they would understand, for it was almost impossible for them both to be present when Rosalie could not be left alone. It had taken years to be able to integrate ourselves successfully within a human community, and I struggled to come to terms with waiting years.

I resolved to take Esme out and buy the Packard we had so desired, perhaps take her to the Playhouse in way of making it up to her. And all too late did I realise I was openly considering the idea of sudden marriage, although insane, I could not help but feel overwhelmingly giddy over the notion.

"I must be mad." I mused quietly, sitting back into my seat.

"So…" He prompted.

"So I've gone completely mad, I'm actually considering it." I exclaimed.

"Fine, ultimatum." He said, taking one hand from the wheel and grabbing onto mine. "If city hall has an open space on their register, will you marry me?"

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><p><em>AN: Finally we may have a wedding. Who doesn't love a good unplanned, abrupt second proposal? Because no blonde newborn is going to stop my main characters from trading their unfortunate nuptials. I had to add a little sass from Tanya because I am beginning to miss her._

_I have decided that upon reaching chapter fifty, I am to re-edit spelling and grammar mistakes made in previous chapters. Because upon re-reading several of my (rather embarrassing) early chapters the number of mistakes are cringe worthy. So bear with me, and I apologize about them and will get round to editing eventually._

_Reviews welcome._


	45. Chapter Forty Four: Nubere Alicui

_A/N: So I feel we have reached a key point in the story, finally my main characters are getting married; and it's only taken forty four chapters. I've also begun my re-editing, the preface and chapter one so far getting a little revamp. _

_So on with my thanks._

_Matthias Stromcrow: I'm already glad to see your name in my reviews, and I'm even more glad you're still enjoying the story. _

_CullenBoy123: Welcome back again. It was so spontaneous it wasn't even in my plot plan, it just wrote itself. A little different from the norm, but I liked it so I kept it. _

_celebritystar: I have read so many stories where Tanya is depicted as some kind of man stealing harlot, but I really like Tanya. She's been around for a while, so must be pretty proficient at spotting love between people, and undoubtedly a bit of sass comes with age. Thanks for the compliment on plot and language, English grammar and I have a love hate relationship, but I try. _

_Viola1701e: Tell me about it…I'm sure I didn't plan the wedding like that. I guess it's them just making the best of hard situation (and by that I mean the angry newborn at home.)_

_Gracegoddess: Thanks for the review. You are so right, I've had a couple of one shots up before and been proud of them, only to find the feedback was mediocre. It really puts a dampener on writing. Lucky everyone has been so supportive towards this story, so I'll write on. _

_Guest: You will have to wait a while for Alice, but Emmett's part in the story is slowly getting closer._

_kristen cullen: Thanks for the long review, I love them. Your birthday has now become my deadline, and I have been writing in every spare moment I have. Happy birthday for Sunday! Hope you have a good one. _

_Sarah.A.A: Ha I know the feeling; the number of times I have been up into the am's reading fanfic. Good luck with your exams. I've found one or two, where Bella is already a vampire. However both are incomplete and look to be staying that way, which is a bit disappointing. But I'll carry on. _

_Thanks for all the reviews; we are slowly climbing towards that two hundred mark. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga. _

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><p><span>Chapter Forty Four: Nubere Alicui<span>

"Yes." I had agreed, wholeheartedly and without any doubts. For nothing could have made me happier than marrying him, it seemed I had been waiting for so long. But my mind rationalized the courthouse were unlikely to have an open place in their registrar, and even if they did, it was even more unlikely they would allow us to get married straight from the street.

Yet call it luck; or a generous donation to the Cincinnati and Lake Erie Railroad Fund, but we had managed to prevail. At five o'clock this very afternoon, at the old Courthouse, we were to be married. Although a little surprised at just how easily money could sway things, the decision to allow our nuptials felt…right. There was no hesitation, and no fear, because I did truly want this more than anything.

On the steps of the courthouse we parted ways, promising to meet back at quarter to five. I hailed a taxicab into the shopping district, intent on walking along the rows of independent stores, before inevitably arriving at The Boston.

Nothing did take my fancy in the small shops, although beautifully crafted by hand; the dresses were not to my taste. Reminiscing over copious about of ruffles, stupidly long trains and veils that made one look like they were drowning in lace. I knew what I wanted, having already scouted the design with Esme. Simplicity with a minimal about of flounce. So when one is in fashion doubt, to the department store they must venture. Vehemently pinning my hopes on them meeting my demands.

It was busy inside. People with more money than sense and not a care in the world, browsing through life's luxuries. Each one succeeded by a smartly dressed staff member, who's sole job had become a human coat stand. The moment my sling backs hit the marble, I was accosted by my very own fawning assistant.

"Good day, Miss." He began, tipping an imaginary hat towards me. "Is there anything I can do to be of service to you today?" Clasping his hands in front of his navy blue uniform.

"Could you perhaps point me in the direction of the bridal trousseau?" I questioned, fixing him with a smile. "If you'd be so kind."

"It would be my pleasure." He smiled widely; the shiny brass buttons on his uniform catching the light and making him appear almost self-illuminating. "If you would care to follow me?" Gesturing broadly towards one of the upper floors.

"Thank you." I replied politely, wishing for directions rather than a chaperone.

At my side he guided me up the rather grand staircase, standing to the right and allowing me to grip the polished banister. The first floor was nothing but a sea of clothing garments stretching as far as the back wall, stocked full with every possible fashion choice one could possibly want. In one corner I spied a great table, set up with equipment ready for the cutting and preparation of material ready for the seamstress. Adjacent to the dressmaker's corner, the lines of hand crank tills stood in a uniform line, each one manned by a member of staff eager to serve the long line of customers.

"Right this way please." My chaperone said, gesturing up another flight of stairs. He continued to apologize profusely about the store elevator being out of service, muttering something about unreliable repair men. I assured him it was fine.

From the stairs a great vision of white descended into my eye line, and I was easily assured I was in the right place. The number of people had significantly decreased, and instead I found myself in the realm of demanding females.

He beckoned over a lively sort of girl, with a bound to her step and enough pep to rival the electric lights. Nancy; for that's what was stated on her name badge, was even smaller than I, with dirty blonde hair humorously pin curled about her head.

"If you have any requirements today, Nancy will be most happy to assist you." He said, gesturing to the girl as if I was incapable of seeing her. "I hope you find everything you are searching for, and have a good day." Tipping his imaginary hat once again in my direction, before he was off to be over helpful once more.

"Welcome to The Boston, my names Nancy." She pointed a red nail to her badge. "And if there's anything you need don't hesitate to ask." Rehearsing a line she'd probably said a thousand times.

"Thank you Nancy." Her name had lost all meaning. "But I'm just browsing." I lied.

She nodded happily, "Well if you do need anything I'll be floating around." She gestured with both hands, looking like a strange marionette doll.

I realised as she began to bounce away, a little human intervention may not be bad. After all two heads are better than one. "One moment, Nancy." I called. She was back at my side in a flash, very much like an obedient pup. "Perhaps you can help me; I have a very…particular set of requirements."

My hunch was correct, for despite her drawn on eyebrows, lively Nancy was well educated on of the topic of the bridal trousseau. Playing on her naivety, I quietly told her of my wedding predicament. Whispering the details with a troubled face, and enduring the full force of her starry eyed notion of romance.

I told her the kind of design my dead grandmother wished me to wear, and watched her hurry off on her self assured mission. It seemed age had not affected my manipulatory skills.

While my new found accomplice was away, I walked through the rails in a happy daze, unable to concentrate on any on the lavish items before me. Ambling past rails filled with a bounty of exclusively expensive white, cream and ivory dresses. Barely concentrating on any of the gem or jewel encrusted fabrics, or the multitude of handmade lace and chiffon. Even my supposedly enhanced mind stumbled to process what had already occurred, and it was only midday.

Walking about the store alone had yielded no progress from myself, but from Nancy's maniacal wave beckoning me to the fitting rooms, I deemed she was having better luck.

Although appearing rather small and shapely, she processed a forceful grip, managing to pull me into one of the mirrored stalls.

"I think you must be the luckiest girl, getting married and fulfilling the wish of your grandmother. It's like a fairy story." She sighed dreamily, taking my coat and hanging it on one of the pegs.

"Did you manage to find anything?" I questioned, not knowing how to respond to her whimsical statement.

"Oh indeed I did." She replied, suddenly looking a little sheepish. "But I am forced to ask Miss; and only because I hope for you to find the dress of your dreams, what is your budget?"

I passed her my hat, pretending to give the question some thought. "Budget...well I don't really have one. I'm going to need a dress, and putting a price upon that will only limit my choices. So if it takes my fancy I'll buy it." I replied, watching her face immediately brighten.

"Well then, I'm completely confident you will find your dress." She grinned, barely able to contain the smile quivering at her lips, she left with a flounce.

I removed my gloves, and unlaced by boots, placing them neatly next to my coat. Standing up straight to survey my reflection in the bounty of mirrors, I deemed that other than my hair being a general mess from wearing a hat, the reflection in front of me was quite satisfactory.

Maybe I wished for more height to my stature, perhaps a little less bust. Hair less prone to curling in the rain and skin less scarred. But it was never good to dwell on things that were unchangeable; these were factors I would have to live with. And it couldn't be all bad; after all I had managed to snag myself a mate.

"Ok here we are, let's try dress number one. "Nancy announced, bounding into the fitting room with a dress in arms.

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><p>Upon aiding me in lacing up the back of dress number six, she had commented on my coat.<p>

"It's your something blue." She said, her fingers expertly tightening each slack tie. "Something old, something new, something borrowed something blue, and a silver sixpence in her shoe. Of course it's unlikely for people to have a sixpence, so we usually leave that one out."

"I never really thought about it." I replied honestly, sweeping the loose hair from my neck.

"Is it a…new coat?" She asked.

"Yes." I smiled.

"Well there you go, two down and two left."

"It also belongs to my Mother." I mused aloud. "She let me…borrow it, because I lost my umbrella."

"See." Nancy stated, tying the lace in a bow. "The good Lord is looking down kindly upon you today."

Be it the Lord, or whatever higher force that usually like to play games with me, perhaps they were taking the day off. It was strange how well something's just occurred, I had almost declined wearing it, deliberating on borrowing Carlisle's umbrella instead.

Dress number six was not the one, or seven, eight or nine. In fact it was a complete wild card that I fell in love with. No longer than mid calve and made of the most handsome cream lace and chiffon, I was completely converted to this more modern style. It had me reminiscing about the style of scandalous flapper girls, having no defined upper corset, merely soft flowing fabric that clinched in at the waist. Stunning and void of terrible fuss.

I picked matching cream boots, embellished with suede and ribbon for laces. Swapped my brown leather gloves for cream ones, and even allowed another shop assistant to place a corsage in my twisted up-do.

Whether the staff were naturally so attentive; or news that I had no budget had obviously travelled, I was well seen too. Everywhere I turned they fawned over my needs, showing me exclusive items, folding and wrapping my original set of clothes into one of their elaborate store bags. Permitting me to keep the dress on; although most of it cleverly hidden under the long blue coat.

The full amount of my little shop was paid for with cash; for my patience for cheques was slim, and with no paper trail untraceable. Then with bags full of empty boxes for storing my trousseau, and today's clothes, I set about departing back down the staircase and out into the city.

"Did you everything you were looking for today?" My earlier chaperone hailed me as I descended.

"Indeed I did." I replied, jostling my bags in show.

"I'm so very glad." He said with a jovial smile; that most probably had something to do with the repair men stationed around the elevator. "Is there anything else I can do for you today?"

I was about to reply with a simple no, but having been helped so much already I felt obliged to ask for one last thing. "Could I perhaps trouble you for a sheet of paper?"

"Paper, Miss?" He questioned with a puzzled frown.

"Yes, I feel most obliged to write a note of thanks to your store manager, for all the help I've received." Watching humorously as he nodded and quickly scattered away. "And an envelope if you please." I called to his retreating figure.

He appeared merely minute's later brandishing paper, envelopes and a posh looking fountain pen. Gently showing me one of the side boards topped with a leather writing pad and blotter for customers to write out their cheques. I promised to seek him out once I had completed my task, hoping he would not hover, luckily the hint was taken and he left me to my own devices.

On one sheet I quickly wrote out my thanks, addressing the kindness of the staff and dropping in several names. But it was the other letter I was more interested in, taking my time to write out my honest gratitude. And onto the envelope I scrawled the name Nancy, slipping two crisp hundred dollar bills into the letter.

I signalled towards Mr Chaperone, giving him one letter to pass onto his manager, and the other to my new acquaintance in bridal wear. I off handily mentioned coming back in, cryptically making it clear the letter had better reach her.

With his assurances to personally see both letters reach their destinations, I departed back into the city.

Noticing immediately the damp sidewalks, and the rivets of rainwater running in small streams into the storm drains. I was delighted to realise I had missed the worst of the forecasted down pour, and so I had no qualms about walking to the Courthouse. Passing ordinary people going about their everyday business, not one of them looking twice to the fact I was walking down the street in my wedding dress.

From the start of Main Street to the outskirts of the business district, I encounter very little human traffic, and reached the courthouse at half past four. Leaving my selection of bags in the Ford, conveniently parked directly across the street. I did not delay outside for long, the low pressure had built once again and the sound of thunder echoed in the distance. A sure sign the next bout of rainfall was quickly approaching, and with it a nasty gale of a storm.

I climbed the great two tiered stone steps, towards the Second Empire style building. Regarding it with a symbolic fondness, and giving it an emotional tag in my memories.

Punctual as always it was no surprise to see Edward already waiting in the grand atrium, dressed impeccably in coat and tails. Looking so incredibly handsome, I deemed myself perhaps the luckiest woman alive. Of all the trials and tribulations, tears and hardships, each one I would happily endure again if it meant reaching this point.

Having never considered myself a great proficient of sentiments or affections, I fought against a great onslaught of emotions the moment we were presented before the courthouse minister. Feelings of devotion and blissful happiness swelled in my chest, clogging my throat with a barely confinable notion.

We exchanged vows and rings, signed our signatures upon the legal document, and were thus forth declared husband and wife.

It may have not been the wedding I had always imagined myself having, there may have been no guests and it might have only been witness by staff at the courthouse. But it was my wedding, spontaneous and unplanned, and I wouldn't have changed it for anything.

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><p><em>AN: I'm so happy to have finished this sub-plot of the story, and an even more excited to start writing the lead up to our very own revenge ridden bloody bride. And then southwards towards Tennessee._


	46. Chapter Forty Five: Familia Sanguis

_A/N: The support for the last chapter was so overwhelmingly brilliant, and the fact my lectures today have been cancelled due to an accident in the city center. I've been working extra hard to get this out earlier. (I think four days is a new record for me.) And how happy I was to find we have reached one hundred and seventy five reviews! I have so many people to thank and mention. _

_reader346: Happy Birthday for last Saturday! I wanted so bad to get another chapter out on the 12th, perhaps this will suffice instead. I was completely humbled by your review, and hope this will be a good late birthday present. Thanks so much for taking the time to review. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thank you for reviewing. Every time I need a pick me up, there's your review waiting in my inbox and making my day._

_viola1701e: I'm sure I will be writing another wedding in the future, complete with family, friends and an elaborate bachelorette party courtesy of Tanya. (But I was too impatient to wait, I wanted the wedding now.) Thanks for reviewing!_

_Scarlett Titania Gray: Thanks for taking the time to review; I'm glad you like their attitudes (always happy to receive a compliment on my characters.)_

_CullenBoy123: Welcome back again! You will be happy to know after Rosalie's theatrical revenge, the introduction to Emmett's arrival will begin. I have to admit he is possibly one of my favourite characters, if everyone had such a laid back attitude to immortality things would be much simpler. _

_Sarah.A.A: Oh congratulations on passing your exams! Once I find those fics I was talking about (I may have deleted them from my alerts)I will let you know and we can do a swap. I'm always interested in how other authors have approached this type of story, and a completed one is even better. _

_demilovato4eva: Unfortunately the honeymoon is on hold for the moment, but they will be having one. Plans are being made. Thanks for the review. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga. _

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><p><span>Chapter Forty Five: Familia Sanguis<span>

June 9th 1933

"Do you like this Banbury style wallpaper?" Esme asked, pointing to the large book of paper samples that were taking up half the kitchen table.

"It's alright." I replied, looking up from applying blue polish to her nails. "What room are you looking for?"

"The living room." She said. "I was thinking of papering the top half of the wall, then using white washed wood panelling for the bottom half."

"That sounds… nice." I responded passively, my attention taken by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Rosalie had wandered from her dwelling.

"Have you decided the kind of design you want in your room?" Esme said, not missing a beat and letting the conversation slip into silence.

"Erm….Edward said as long as it's not floral or a pastel colour I can make the decision, and I really liked the teal and silver majestic pattern. Perhaps on just the one wall, the others cream?" I continued, pretending not to have noticed Rosalie's appearance in the room.

"Oh that sound interesting, I may use a one wall feature in the dining room. Rosalie do you want to pick out something?" Esme asked, sliding the book of samples towards her.

Rosalie; with her arms crossed, looked over in slight interest. "I suppose." She replied, taking the seat next to Esme.

I began painting Esme's right hand; watching Rosalie from my peripheral vision was an unshakeable habit. She started flicking through the book with her usual bored uninterested view on life, but upon reaching some of the prettier patterns her demeanour changed. Becoming more animated as she searched through the samples, using her fingers to carefully search through the pages.

Her orange eyes deliberated between two examples of a repetitive floral pattern, one in lavender, the other in light pink. Jumping between the two with indecision, her fingers grazed each one, feeling the raised markings.

"If you can't decide you can always have both." Esme smiled, blowing lightly on the polish on her left hand.

"Both?" Rosalie replied with some scepticism.

"You could alternate the paper, or have two different feature walls." She answered, looking delightfully happy that she was taking an interest.

"Did you say we had our own bathrooms at the new house?" Rosalie asked, looking awkward with our attentions turned on her.

"Indeed, every double bedroom in the house has an en-suite." Esme confirmed. "Why don't I go get the blueprints, that way you can pick which room you want?" Leaving no room for anyone to replied Esme left the kitchen with a flourish.

Leaving Rosalie and I to sit in uncomfortable silence, neither of us knowing quite what to say. Since calling her out that day; some four weeks ago, conversations had been short, lacking in any topic other than that of polite necessity. It was a strange relationship, one that lacked any skill or dexterity. Although it made for an easy house without any conflict, the atmosphere was forever tense as we tiptoed around each other.

She had good days, and bad. Sometimes engaging with the rest of us was acceptable, while other times our very presence was a curse. She'd slam doors, shriek her anger and wish herself dead. The description petulant child had never fit so well.

Rosalie found favor with Esme, being the natural matriarch and devotee of amiable amounts of compassion. Like some remedial therapy session, Esme had Rosalie help with menial tasks about the house. Sewing up the rips and tears in our hunting clothes, and even tending the small plant boxes and borders in the garden.

"Is that a Packard catalogue?" Rosalie questioned into the silence, nodding her head to the glossy magazine I was painting my nails on.

"Yep." I confirmed, moving my bottle of pink polish to one side and straightening out the bent corner. "Esme and I have been planning to get one to replace the Ford." Wrinkling my nose in thought of my most hated nemesis. "Do you want to take a look?"

"If you don't mind?" She replied cautiously.

"Go ahead." I said, gesturing to the book as not to smudge the wet paint on my nails. "Input to choice welcome, we can't decide." Esme was taking a suspiciously long time to find the blueprints.

Looking through wallpaper patterns became all but forgotten, as she scanned feverishly through the glossy pages. Gazing at every picture and avidly reading the given details.

"Have you ever driven?" I asked, blowing the lacquer dry.

"No." Came her short reply. I watched as she turned slowly to the next page, bending the corner with her finger and deliberated something in her mind. "I'd like to." She said quietly.

"We can teach you." The response fell from my mouth. "I mean, it's easy to learn once someone shows you the basics. I have no doubt you will have mastered it in a couple of hours. You could… always do Esme and I a favor and accidentally wreck the Ford."

"Wreck it?" She mirrored.

"Carlisle doesn't quite see the extent of the Fords many flaws, accidental annihilation may speed up the process of getting a Packard." I divulged.

Rosalie smiled. A real genuine smile, one that did not turn into a lip curl, or get thrown at you after a scathing comment.

"I'll see what I can do." She said.

* * *

><p>"The house feels good today." Carlisle commented off handily, placing his ink pen in its designated groove.<p>

"And by that you mean there have been no tantrums, or shrieks akin to that of a banshee." I resorted, continuing to jot down a mirage of numbers from the newspapers stock index.

"Did I say such a thing?" He said, placing his hands up in mock innocence.

"No." I grinned. "But I read between the lines."

"Yes well, regardless the atmosphere in the house is very pleasant." He commented again.

"I agree." I announced, grabbing today's newspaper and flicking straight to the business and economy section.

"How is the forecast coming along?" Carlisle asked, moving from the freestanding writing desk to view the copious amounts of paper I was drowning under.

"Alright I suppose, they haven't increased by anything more than a couple of cents. But at least they haven't decreased." I replied, passing him my scrawl of messy notes.

"Recommendations?" He said, taking the seat next to me at the dining room table to view the papers.

"I'm going to hold off selling them for the moment, the World Economic Conference is on Monday and I'm banking on Roosevelt pursuing some kind of devaluation of the dollar. " I stated.

"To help improve our economy trade positions." Carlisle acknowledged. "But I hear from the papers Britain and France want the dollar stabilized."

"Hmm, I think Europe is keen to fix it at a high rate."

He continued to look through my notes; the only item on the table that were in any chronological order. "Well." He began. "If everything goes your way, you look to be on track to make a nice sum."

"If only predicting the market was that easy."

"I suppose the only thing I can do is wish you luck."

"Then we shall know by Monday if my planning pays off." I announced, beginning the arduous task of shuffling everything back into its designated box folder. Pretentiously labelled _Accounting._

"I never got round to asking if Edward and yourself had decided upon a destination for your trip?" He questioned.

"Honestly, I'm afraid we're undecided." I confessed. It was an idea we were both keen upon, as much as we loved the family being alone for the week definitely had it…. advantages. More prosperous than having to awkwardly wait for the others to go off hunting. But we couldn't be selfish at the moment, and so awkwardly waiting would have to do. "Picking a destination is easier said than done."

"Did you have anywhere in mind?"

"Possibly Vermont, or Main, I passed through the area with Horace and the rest of our small group shortly after my change, although I confess my mind was not on the scenery."

"A very beautiful area, I was lucky enough to work in New Hampshire, and the scenery was stunning. Perhaps, if you did visit and found it highly recommendable, we could think about purchasing property." He mused. "I have been thinking of investing in some kind of remote safe house."

"I awoke in Appalachian Conservation Area in Main, the whole area northwards is nothing but wilderness parks. A house in that area would be idle for a newborn, for there are virtually no human settlements within a hundred miles." I added.

"We shall mention it to the others, but I think a secluded property is definitely an idea we should pursue. One never knows what the future shall bring."

We lapsed into a quiet silence, instead listening to the daily news upon the wireless. And continued to finish writing correspondents that Carlisle and I seemed to be ever overwhelmed with. I believed Rosalie and Esme had decided to move into the garden, seeing as the rain had stopped and it was relatively pleasant.

Edward had volunteered to go fetch the post after his hunt, so I found myself void of his company and decided with some free time to tackle my finances. A decision I was coming to regret.

But I was hoping for a reply from the Denali's. Since their letter about Laurent's and Irina's great escape, and the covens planned attempts to drag them home, we had not heard from them. The reply we had sent had included news of the marriage, and I was a little fearful about Tanya's response.

It had been a little over two weeks since we sent our letter back, and naturally we were worried for their well-being; although God help anyone who evoked the wrath of the blonde succubus. The original note had set out it was only Tanya, Kate and Kate's nomadic beau going off on the adventure, but we had heard nothing from the likes of Eleazar or Carmen. Leaving us to ponder perhaps they too had joined the search. We hoped for a letter within the next week detailing the success, or failures, in detaining their wayward members.

It was a difficult situation, for normally we would head up to Alaska to help, strength in numbers and such. Yet with Rosalie still at large to the humans, that was impossible.

I could not wait to move into the new house and finally be connected to the telephone switchboard exchange, how convenient it would be to make calls instead of waiting upon letters. With the Denali's set to move into large accommodation; to fit the demand of their increasing coven size, and also becoming telecommunication connected, we would be able to speak across the four thousand miles.

"Looks like the mails here." Carlisle announced, referring to the sound of an approaching set of footfalls.

"Impeccable timing." I replied, launching from my seat to intercept the letters, and of course greet my husband, but mostly get the mail.

"Is there anything for me?" I bombarded him with the question no sooner had he come through the door.

"What's this? No greeting. No love." Edward responded in mock hurt.

"Sorry." I said, giving him a quick hug and kiss. "But seriously is there any mail for me?"

"There is." He stated slowly. "However not the one you wanted."

"Oh." I replied deflated. "I went and got my own hopes up."

"I'm sure she's written you a reply so long, that it requires double the number of mail stamps just to get here." He stated, removing his shoes and outwear before daring to step on Esme's rugs.

From the pocket of his nice new coat; courtesy of me, he fished out two letters. Handing the top one to Carlisle, and designated the other to me.

Rather ungracefully I slumped onto the plush sofa, greedily tearing through the rather ambiguous envelope. Edward taking the seat next to me.

"You are always happy to receive mail, Isabella." Carlisle observed.

"She is obsessed." Edward added.

"Maybe, but I adore getting mail, people sending me things via post is exciting." I clarified, pulling the scruffy letter from its confines. "A response from Jenks." Through the first paragraph I read.

"He has not been killed then?" Edward asked, pulling me closer in an attempted to view the letter.

"No, you will all be happy to know Jenks has not been 'whacked' by the mob." I confirmed, fighting with him for the center of the sofa.

"We shall all sleep better at night." He said sarcastically.

"And does he finally reveal his whereabouts?" Carlisle questioned with a grin.

"I am happy to inform you, trading shall continue as normal…..blah. Esteemed and loyal customer…blah-" I quoted, scanning quickly through the barely legible handwriting. "Please find my new address enclosed, three hundred and four, sixth Avenue South, Seattle."

"Seattle?" Edward and Carlisle echoed.

"Looks like Jenks wasn't joking about up and leaving."

"They must have struck some fear into him, moving all that way." Carlisle stated.

"He was always a rather nervous character; I'm always amazed he manages to keep it together when I come calling." I replied, giving up my fight with Edward and instead swinging my legs across his lap.

"Is there no 'burn after reading' note at the bottom." Edward asked, either rolling his eyes at the letter or my victory.

"Nope, I guess he forgot about recipient precautions." I confirmed, tossing the letter onto the coffee table.

"Shall I put these back in the attic?" Carlisle said, gesturing to the box file of accounting in his hand.

"Please." I nodded. "I suppose I shan't be needing them till Monday."

"I'll put them with the others in the linen box." He said, referring to our rather crude safety measure in the attic.

"Thank you." I called after is retreating figure.

"You must have really missed me if you bought out the accounting." Edward whispered.

"Yeah, and also because I have no desire for us to be poor." I whispered back cheekily.

"Then I thank you for keeping us above the breadline." He replied, fingers toying with the hem of my skirt.

"You're welcome." I grinned. "And by Monday we shall either be happily invested in something worth money, or sitting on a pile of worthless stock."

"Gambling on the stock market again."

"Indeed." I nodded, swatting his hand away from messing with my clothing.

"Hope you know what you're doing this time." He smirked.

"You bastard." I growled, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling on it. "I'll have you know I sold most of my shares before the crash."

"Most." He whispered, grabbing my wrists and holding them still.

My futile attempts to reclaim back my arms were void of any success; his hands were large enough to encircle both my wrists. Even my best glare was failing to have the desired effects.

"You look like an angry kitten." He smirked again, pulling on my wrists and bringing us closer together.

"I do not." I argued, managing to pull one hand free from their confines. Placing it quickly over his mouth, before he could resort with some witty comeback. "If you haven't got anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

His lips twitched against my palm, "I love you."

"That's a low blow." I mumbled.

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><p><em>AN: Everyone is getting along for once, even Rosalie was having a good day….I don't think it's going to last. Thanks once against for everyone's support in the last chapter, love you hear your opinions on this one. _


	47. Chapter Forty Six: Homicidium

_A/N: Two updates in just over a week, all made possible by the ridiculous amount of snow fall in London. Although it's not even a foot deep, we British do not cope with snow very well. Tending to panic, buying up all the bread and tea, refusing to leave the house because the news presenters said not to unless necessary; which means don't go to work or school. So it is thanks to the winter weather and a British tendency to overreact, that I have had the time to write. _

_And of course getting great reviews has also sped up the process._

_Holidai: Thanks for the review. I needed a light hearted subject the two could bond over, and with Bella's hatred of the Ford, cars seemed like a legitimate topic. And as for the mail, who doesn't like getting post? I have to say, I'm not over running to the door mat to collect my letters. _

_viola1701e: I cannot wait for Emmett, he definitely brings out the best in Rosalie. She won't know what hit her. Thank you for the review._

_Sarah.A.A: Oh my goodness you put this story in your community, thank you so much. I am so unbelievably happy. Not only that, but you managed to find other stories, including ones that are completed! Seriously my reading list has expanded tenfold. _

_CullenBoy123: A little awkward bonding is always nice. As much as I do love a good confrontation, relationships have to be built for us to move forwards. Thanks for another great review. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: Up next is the build-up to Rosalie's great moment of theatrics, and then the appearance of the bloody bride. Thank you for the review._

_celebritystar: Thank you for your review as always._

_Jojo657:. When you're a vampire every night is a good one. Thanks for your review_

_BadassEri90: Wow, super long review. I got this in my email box and it made my day. I love the idea of them all watching Titanic, and Bella getting her memory back. I can't say anything about the plan yet (because it's not exactly been decided upon), but I think the film will be getting a reference later on. I can honestly say I'm far too attached to this story to even consider the thought of abandoning it. I couldn't disappoint the people who have taken the time to read and review. Your long review was so great, and I shall continue to be an avid writer. Thanks once again. _

_reader346: I love bickering couples, from my experience relationships aren't all sunshine and constant fluffy romance. (Although… I am a big fan of fluff and sunshine.)Thanks for your review. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Rights to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Forty Six: Homicidium<span>

July 5th 1933

"Oh you little bastard." I bit, gripping the broadsheet tightly in both hands. Angrily scanning the printed word in the hopes of some mistake, but the headline was clear- "Deals breaking down!" - it screamed.

"Humans." I muttered, throwing the offending business and economy section across the table.

"Is there a backup plan?" Carlisle questioned, trying to un-crease the paper.

I took a seat on the stairs, decided the fourth one up was suitable in both height and prowess above the room. "I'm not selling." I declared. "I'm not losing money because of the incompetence of humans; I will win- Sorry Esme." I shifted to one side as she came down the stairs laundry basket balanced skilfully on her hip.

"Has something happened?" She questioned, undoubtedly hearing my displeasure from upstairs.

"Speculation in the stock has not reaped its benefits." Edward announced, looking up from reading the sports news.

"I was not expecting; and neither were the rest of the stock market, for Roosevelt to reject currency compromises. People are panicking and selling again, and I am losing money."

"Stick it out." Carlisle declared. "You may have to be patient and wait to see if Roosevelt decides to back track. If the decision is that unpopular it is not unheard of, there may still be a chance of making money yet."

"You're right." I nodded. "Britain and France will probably try to set their own currency tariffs, and I just have to hope the dollar will be raised to stop them doing so... honestly Carlisle you should just become a broker, you have a talent."

"I shall consider it if the physician post should not work out." He chuckled, obediently taking the laundry basket from Esme.

"Right." I announced standing from my perch. "If there is nothing of a pressing nature to do, I shall go hunt." With no one challenging my notion; and Edward far too engrossed in the baseball scores and preparing to listening to the live game at 1 o'clock. I deemed a lonely hunt was on the cards, something I revelled eagerly in.

It had been some time since I had been able to enjoy a hunt in solitude; my mind could only run rampant with ideas of running south towards the Minister Creek and swimming in the deep parts of the river. Maybe even wearing my new swimsuit, the short blue thing that showed a scandalous amount of leg and décolletage. But it wasn't like any humans would stumble upon the area, for the nearest camping and hunting ground were tens of miles upriver. How fun it should be to go swimming in something far less restricting than shirt and breeches, more practical than undergarments, and more conservative than nothing at all.

With a plan in motion I wasted little time in getting ready, ignoring the stepping ladder and almost climbing into the airing cupboard to find the freshly cleaned shirts. Underneath by boring hunting outfit I wore my blue swimming suit, feeling quite brazen about wearing an item some still considered shockingly improper.

Seeing as Edward was so very focused on the baseball season, I deemed it unwise to interrupt him with my scandalous state of dress. I'd simply mention it once the game had finished, and I had returned to proper attire.

I vacated our room in the same flourish I had entered, my new pair of rubber gumboots in hand and ridiculously excited about such a simple notion. Everything was going so well. But like all good plans something came along and extinguished it.

"Isabella...are you going hunting?" Came Rosalie's question out of the blue.

"Yes." I answered, trying not to clip my answers and be the nicest possible version of myself.

"Do you mind if I join you?" She questioned, standing stoic in her threshold.

I wanted to scream no, tell her to stay in the house like a good little newborn and let me hunt and frolic in peace. "Of course." I replied instead, with enough sugary sweet gusto to make one sick. "I'll wait for you on the porch."

"Thanks." She acknowledged, shutting her door to get ready.

I moped and pouted pathetically down the stairs, pulling on my boots with a sour face and internally shaking my fists towards higher forces. I felt guilty for having such an introverted view on spending time with her, but whenever I did it was a task. She liked to pose herself as an independent being, someone who didn't need the help and support of others. And often found herself frustrated with the sometimes overly cautious bubble we surrounded her with.

But the whole facade she presented was beginning to crack. She thrived on the attention and positive encouragement given to her by Esme, openly seeking to please our matriarch. When the family meeting was called to session, she took a seat. It seemed Rosalie was not as independent as she liked to make out. And I certainly didn't possess enough desire to try and nurture her friendly personality.

With my own slightly self-centred thoughts obscured by a remembrance to tie back my hair, I frisked the pockets in my breeches. But no luck befalling me; I instead tried the array of coats, pegged on my designated hook by the door. Rifling through the cavities in search. It was only when I reached my least favourite jacket did I find success, pulling out a handful of Bobby pins and hair ties. No matter how careful I was with the little objects, they seemed to possess an ability to disappear. Only needn't one of each I put the rest back in Edward's coat pocket, seeing as I swapped my out wear depending on the outfits.

Then skilfully dodging the cream tasselled rug in the hall, I sort out the other members of the family, notifying them to take revenge should Rosalie return without me.

I found Carlisle and Edward huddled around the wireless, avidly listening to the pre-game commentary about statistics and player information.

"Bet you ten bucks, the Bostonians are going to annihilate your Yankees." I announced, managing to take their attention from the radio.

"I would take you up on your offer, if I were not in agreement with you." Carlisle replied.

"Excuse me?" Edward said, looking at the two of us like we had just partaken in sacrilege. "You are both so very completely and unbelievably wrong. The Red Sox suck."

"They can't 'suck' any worse than The ChiSox?" Carlisle smirked at him.

I sniggered at the slight upon Edward's most beloved team, and how brilliantly executed the insult had been. "Says the two who are from a country whose past time is cricket and soccer." Came his pathetic come back.

"Football." Carlisle and I corrected at the same time.

"And I do believe that was a slight upon our heritage." I announced.

"Indeed. Now while I do not believe myself to be a gambling man, Edward I shall bet you a hundred dollars upon The Red Sox _annihilating_ the Yankee's." Came another brilliantly crafty reply from Carlisle.

"I'll bet a hundred." I piped in, throwing my nicest smile towards Edward's eye roll.

"You're on." He replied to us both.

"Alright." I clapped. "I'll collect my dues once Rosalie and I have returned from our hunt." Dropping the fact rather bluntly into the conversation, whether or not they wanted to make a comment was void as Rosalie appeared in the doorway.

"You ready?" I asked for confirmation.

"Yes." She supplied.

"Have a good hunt." Carlisle said, probably wondering how this rather bazaar situation came to light.

"We will. And Edward, have the money ready, I won't be accepting any 'I owe you' notes." I smirked.

"I shan't worry, for the Yankee's will reign supreme. And seeing as you are being so cocky, I will have no hesitations in taking money from you. Even if you are my wife." He replied coolly, lounging back in the armchair with a triumphant air about him.

I would allow him to feel his moment of victory, and vehemently hope The Red Sox were on form today. If the worst came to the worst and the Yankee's managed a victory, I would just have to use a little extra charm and a whole lot of leg to stop the bragging.

"So." I began, feeling it was time to do my task. "I was thinking we could run south westerly, head towards Minister Creek? The weathers quite good and larger game usually head towards the water on warm days."

"Alright." Rosalie replied.

"Great...good." I stated clumsily, quickly bolting into the trees to avoid the stiff atmosphere.

Having only been purchased and instated as a National Park in nineteen twenty three, the whole central area of the forest had remained virtually untouched. Before the establishment deer and larger predatory animals had been over hunted, to try and restore the populations the Government had restocked the forest with imported animals from other states. With humans regulated to hunt in the north of the park during designated seasons, the species thrived, making it a perfect area for us to dwell in.

The hilly topography of the land; complete with a gorge, lead to excellent hunting advantages. And enough obstacles to avoid an awkward conversation with the newborn running at my side.

Eventually, when the trail began to slope towards the river canyon, we were ready to go our separate ways. Agreeing to meet at the river side once completed. She moved back up the slope, planning to stalk along the ridge for prey. I made sure to keep downwind from her hunt, allowing me to keep tags upon her location.

Using a bout of animal related knowledge, I kept amongst the trees on the river bank. The grass and foliage being naturally more nutritious the closer you got to the water, therefore a popular grazing spot. I wasn't setting myself up for anything larger than deer; unless the carnivores were awake at this hour. But I had another vampire to keep an eye on, and gallivanting off after some large angry bobcat was just asking for trouble.

Deer, being naturally skittish creatures, bolted the moment I approached. Jumping and kicking their hooves back in an attempt to dispel me from the chase. They tried to head towards to the water, hoping I was the kind of predator that had an aversion to swimming. But I preferred my swim void of woodland creatures, and quickly herded them away from the cliff edge.

It was while I was attempting to single out one of the mass, that a slightly bulky female was forced to make an emergency detour to avoid a cluster of trees. It skidded against the damp grass, and struggled to regain its footing. An all too easy picking for vampiric reflexes. The noise that came from its throat was akin to that of a fog horn, deep and abrasive. I had to break its neck just to make the din end. There really was nothing attractive about hunting.

Naturally requiring more food than I, Rosalie took much longer to apprehend the entirety of her meal, usually consisting of several animals. Seeing as the gorge ridge was turning out to be a prime hunting spot for her, I deemed waiting patiently and having a little fun could be combined. Social convention be damned, I shed my shirt, breeches and boots with the intent of going for my swim.

My small pile of clothes were left neatly; for there was no excuse for slovenliness even in the great outdoors, and in my new blue swimsuit I jumped from the cliffs into the deeper water at the river bend.

I sank like a stone. Feet hitting the bottom and sending out a cloud of silt that quickly dispersed with the current. Any fish in the vicinity were quick to vacate the area, swimming into rock crevices and behind the water plants for protection. If there was one thing I truly detested it was the feel of water grass wrapping around by feet, so I kept well away.

The natural flow of the water kept a weak but steady current flowing, rippling my hair like it were caught in an updraft. I was sure the temperature would have been frigid to the human skin, yet I could feel only a slight fluctuation against my marble flesh. Expelling a breath, I watched entranced as the bubbles shimmered upwards and broke through the stippled surface

I liked the feeling of being completely submerged, how strange the notion of weightlessness was. Staying down upon the bottom where the sounds above were muted and dimmed held only joyous appeal. The troubles above land seemed distant, a world away beneath the water.

And had it not been for the overly confident fish that were trying to eat my hair, I could have stayed down there all day. Instead for the sake of my snarls, towards the surface I ascended, breaking the skin of the water with a quiet splash. Immediately I set to brushing said hair from my face, and wiped the water from my eyes so my vision was once again uninhibited.

Only to come face to face with Rosalie on the shore.

"You're swimming." She stated obviously.

"True." I replied, regarding her mussy state and blood splattered blouse.

"Why are you swimming?"

I shrugged best I could in the water. "It's a nice day, I'm in the area. I like to swim. Care to join?"

She shifted her weight onto one foot, looking around the enclosed river pool with a mild interest. "I do not care for swimming." Came her haughty response.

"It is usually those who cannot, that do not care for things." I stated, bobbing up and down with the water.

"What need have I for such a frivolous skill." She bit, coiling a strand of hair around her finger.

"So you cannot swim." I deduced.

"I didn't say that." She replied icily, narrowing her bright orange eyes at me.

"Then maybe you have never been swimming before." I tried again, deciding to stay far from the bank and from her displeasure. "But being a vampire has its advantages, for it is impossible for us to drown. So we are all quite proficient swimmers."

"Another great benefit." She narrated sarcastically.

"It is the benefits you must look for, otherwise what's the point in even being alive?" I replied, enjoying delivering a quick jibe.

"Indeed." She scoffed.

Feeling my swim in peace was officially over, I rather reluctantly made my ways to the shore. Stepping over the smooth rocks and avoiding the water weeds, in my attempts to get to dry land. Perhaps a towel would have been a smart accessory to my trip, but for now I'd just have to make do with the warm weather.

"How did you get them?" She questioned quietly.

I looked up from pulling in my breeches, catching her eyes lingering over the silvery mars upon my skin. Clearer now with the sun's rays pouring over them. "How do you think?" I replied, internally impressed with the bluntness of the question.

"Others." She finally responded.

"Correct." I acknowledged, finishing the dressing process. "The only way to mark a vampire's skin is through a bite or wound infected with venom, the flesh will heal, but the skin will scar."

"Someone… did that to you?" She said, absentmindedly touching the small scar upon her neck.

"Someone, some people. And to them I did the same. Because not all vampires out there are as friendly as the Cullen's."

"You were not changed by Carlisle." She stated. "I have deduced that much."

"Oh. You have been making deductions about me?" I replied with coy amusement.

She looked rather embarrassed at her statement, casting her eyes away from my gaze. "Should I not know the nature of person I am forced live with?" The abashment was quickly forced into anger, as were most things.

"I do not under any circumstances deliberately conceal my past from you. You have only to ask and I shall inform."

"Fine." She fired quickly. "You were a…human drinker, correct?"

"Correct." I confirmed, raking my fingers through my damp hair.

"You have killed before, vampires and humans?" She questioned rapidly.

"Yes."

"And you said." She began, verging on some kind of fast paced hysteria. "You said he was the type of human you would have no qualms about changing back your diet for. You insinuated it would be alright to murder him."

"Excuse me?" I replied.

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><p><em>AN: Is there a point to the randomness of this chapter? Indeed there is. Of course all will be revealed in the next chapter. _

_A little history note: June 10__th__ 1933, President Roosevelt met with the prime ministers of Britain and France, to coordinate a possible plan for dealing with the economic depression. Both European powers wished to stabilize the worth of the US dollar, a compromise was issued by the head of U.S. delegation Secretary of State to stabilize all three currencies. However on July 3__rd__, Roosevelt rejected the compromise, effectively ending the conference. Many assumed his rejection of a deal with the British and French, was because it would limit his ability to inflate the Dollar. _

_Bella's annoyance towards the news, stems from many supporters losing faith in FDR. The collapse of the negations, effectively isolated the US from international cooperation. And subsequently stocks and shares dipped in value. Of course not everyone saw this as bad, Nazi Germany saw the disconnection of the US from Europe as an opportunity to rebuild. _

_Fin_


	48. Chapter Forty Seven: Interminor

_A/N: Such a great response from the last chapter set me up with the inspiration to write, so in between listening to people complain about the weather and dodging snow drifts, I've been sticking to my five hundred plus words a day, in the hopes of having a chapter out once every five days or so. And as I keep mentioning (because I can barely contain my excitement) we are getting oh so close to the two hundred review mark, and reaching chapter fifty. So thanks to everyone who has reviewed, put this story on alert or favourites. _

_Jojo657: Rosalie is indeed openly displaying her difficult personality (generally being a bitch); I think it's just a flaw in her character. But the events of the next chapters will definitely have an effect on her, hopefully making her a little more agreeable. Thanks for reviewing._

_CullenBoy123: I've been looking forward to writing these chapters; I always wondered how Rosalie managed to implement her plans alone. (How did she not only beat her blood lust, but successfully manage to plan the perfect murder, all the while wearing a wedding dress? I'd fail at simply trying to get to Rochester.)But knowing Bella's penchant for trouble, she was bound to get dragged into it. Regarding the Titanic movie authors note, I love the idea so much. Although I haven't got a definite plan yet, I've got some ideas, and I'm keen to have the movie referenced at some point. Thanks for another great review._

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thanks for reading and reviewing, glad you liked the chapter._

_celebritystar: Thank you once again for taking the time to review._

_viola1701e: Indeed she has finally made relatively civil contact, unfortunately it's not just general niceties, and she's going to want something in return. I'm sure Bella may question the benefits of that. Thanks for reviewing again. _

_Sarah-A-A: I always look forward to your reviews, bringing me new stories to add to my list. As soon as I get a day off, I'll start reading because the story summaries sound amazing. Right up my street. And I'm not sure about luck regarding the snow, it was nice at first, but it's just an icy hindrance now. Even trying to walk along the pavements is a hazard; the British are not built for snow. I can't imagine going to Uni on a Saturday that is my designated day off. Thanks for taking the time to review; I'll keep checking back to your community for new stories._

_leahmarie59: Such a nice review, thank you so much. You have managed to sum up exactly what I hoped to accomplish; a stronger female character (who is definitely impartial to some romance). I would love to share some ideas regarding Bella's past, but at the moment they are more fleeting thoughts. Ranging from book/newspaper references, to another vampire recognizing her, even the thought of Alice having something to do with it. There are so many ideas floating around in my mind, but even if I do plan, it will probably write itself. (I can assure you I have no plans to break up any couples; I'm too much of a romantic to consider such a thing.)_

_CallMeAnonymous9: Thank you for reviewing, I'm glad you like the story so far. I've always had an avid interest in the Titanic. Funny enough I was originally writing the first chapter as an historical account for my A-level coursework. Although it was never submitted, I eventually wrote Bella in as the main character and the story progressed from there. I'm sure we will see some more Titanic related chapters at some point, I love writing that time period._

_reader346: Thank you for the review. I won't spoil the chapter, but Bella's gone and got herself into yet another spot of trouble. Here's the chapter to stop the suspense from killing you. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga_

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><p><span>Chapter Forty Seven: Interminor<span>

She looked maniacal, a wildness in her orange eyes and hands that shook with hysteria. Within a moment she had changed from the brazen blonde, to a strange character whose vulnerability was exposed across her face. The feelings she had hidden under her façade, were now broken in this uncontrollable fit of emotions.

"You said..." She began, her body shaking. "You said it would be alright."

How could I respond, indeed I had made such a statement towards her. I had openly said his death would cause me no grief. "It's true that I said such a thing, I do not retract my statement. But you have to understand I cannot put this family in jeopardy."

"But you know how. You know things, you plan everything meticulously." She declared, her shaking hands now clenched into tight fists. "I'm not asking you to kill _them_, Isabella. I'm asking for your help."

I began to feel a great rise of panic welling in the depths of my chest. "You wish to kill them?" I whispered.

"I have to." She nodded forcefully. "Don't you understand, I can't live unless _they_ are held accountable. An eye for an eye."

"Rosalie." I began quietly. "Revenge is not always the answer, you are talking about committing a murder-"

"No." She declared vehemently. "It's not murder, its retribution. I'm avenging the life that _they _took from me, that _they_ stole. Can you honestly tell me that it's not a deserving death?"

I was silenced. Because if such horrors had befallen me, I would openly hunt them down and make sure the brutality of their crimes were mirrored in their deaths.

"I have to do it. I can't move on knowing that those….people." She spat the word. "Are still walking free."

"I understand your reasoning, truly I do. B-but this plan goes against everything the family stands for. The ideology I have agreed to uphold." I explained, running my hands through my hair apprehensively. "What about the family, can't you at least explain this to them? They can help."

"No." She voiced loudly. "I can't tell them, they will only attempt to talk me out of it. Why do you think I came to you? I know the rules of this coven are to live harmoniously with the humans, but there is a part of you; however big or small, that sometimes questions that ideology. And I need that part of you to understand."

"Rosalie-"

"Please." She begged. "I know we are not close, I've never really made an attempt to get to know you. But you are the only person in this family who can understand." There fell a strenuous silence, in which a bout of distress bubbled so close to my surface. And so much I wanted Edward here with me, because I didn't feel so confident at this moment.

"I have to do this for myself, with or without you I shall. But I really need your help." Rosalie declared into the silence, her eyes shone brightly with resolve and a murderous intent. The stubborn tilt of her jaw, and tense coil of her muscles further emphasized her unwavering devotion to this decision.

She was going to head towards Rochester regardless to my agreement or disagreement, straight towards a great mass of human civilization. That was a lot of people, over three hundred thousand humans in a condensed area. "If you're going to do this you have to hunt." I stated with a sigh.

"But…I've already hunted?" She questioned with a puzzled look.

"That's not good enough." I stated bluntly. "You have to drink enough blood to make yourself sick, enough to make your body partially immune to the scent of human blood. Even then I hope you're strong enough to resist it."

"Does this mean you'll help me?"

I regarded her with an impassive look. "I am not doing this because of your wish for retribution." I announced clearly. "I'm doing this because if you should go on a blood induced rampage, someone will have to stop you. I will not let you set the likes of the Volturi upon this family."

"I understand." She acknowledged, her hand unfurling from their clench. "Just know I am thankful."

I nodded my head in recognition, but made no motion to gratify her thanks. Instead I could only manage a vague gesture to the trees, and to quickly mutter "Let's go hunt."

* * *

><p>From our current location in Minister Creek, I mused the quickest and safest route towards Rochester would be to carry on traveling the length of the National Forest until we reached the New York State border, then continuing through Allegany State Park. After that we would have to risk running through farmland to reach the scattering of small forests leading towards Letchworth State Park. The journey would allow for any extra chances to hunt, before reaching the city.<p>

Like a hawk I observed her hunting, watching as she took down animal after animal and the increasing carcass numbers. "Again." I told her. Another was added to the count.

"I can't drink anymore, my stomach is churning." She complained, hand pressed just below her chest.

"One more." I said. "You're not vomiting blood yet."

Her lips mashed together, stopping the nasty resort that was on the tip of her tongue. Yet obediently she turned on her heel, and fled back into the thickets to hunt. Seven animals in one day was a new record, albeit the seventh was most probably unneeded… but I had to find my fun some way.

While she took down her last, I hunted for myself. Adding another two to my daily tally, a safety precaution from any blood that might be shed, and the strength Rosalie still possessed.

"No more." She moaned, taking large gulps of air like a fish. "I can feel the blood in my stomach."

"Good, you've taken in as much as physically possible. It may help to reduce the lust for human blood, but only so far. When we reach any type of civilization stop breathing, the rest is up to you."

"I know." She assured.

From the edge of the creek, up until reaching the main track that connected the village of Kane to the reservoir, we did not speak. Although a usual trait between the two of us, this time it was affiliated with the issue ahead. My mind was too preoccupied with the gap widening between myself and the family, they would undoubtedly begin to wonder where we were come sundown.

Edward and I had promised never to part with each other, and here I was going and breaking that vow. Wandering off on a macabre scheme. Rosalie would not go to the family, and in the time it would take for me to warn them, she would be too far ahead to stop. She knew it, blackmail at its finest.

"Do you have a plan?" I asked when the atmosphere grew too heavy.

She didn't reply at first, her eyes trained straight ahead in study. "The Public National Bank." Came her final reply. "Every night at nine, _they_ cash up the daily intake and move it into the vaults. Then lock up, before leaving around ten."

"He works in the bank?" I prompted, trying to divulge the rest of the information from her.

"Yes." She put forth with a bitter mouth. "Chief of finance or something of that pretentious calibre, _they_ all worked in the bank."

"The perfect opportunity has befallen you. The vaults. Probably beneath ground, thick walls, sound proof."

Rosalie's eyes caught mine through the trees, her orange irises suddenly alive with their bloodthirsty vengeance. "It's perfect." She whispered with a hiss.

"You will have to hold off until the evening, wait until the money is moved. Until then we can make use of the old house, there are still boxes of clothes in the attic we can change into."

"Where is the house?" She questioned, pulling a face at the blood stains on her once peach blouse.

"On the outskirts of Geneseo." I replied, wondering if I should tell her about the leaves in her hair.

"Oh." Rosalie hesitated. "I cannot recall Geneseo very well, it had almost completely slipped my mind."

"Human memories tend to fade if they are not recalled… or so I am told." I attempted to assure.

"How vexing it is that the only clear human memory I should recall, is the one I don't wish to." She declared sorely. "I am envious of you."

"Of me?" I said, barely concealing a look of confusion.

"Having no recollection of your past. I would give anything to have that." Rosalie replied sincerely, finally removing the leaf litter from her locks.

I concealed my bitter smile behind a look of indifference. "While it may make some things more bearable, I can honestly tell you it creates more problems than it solves. No matter how incredible my life is now, there is always a part of me that will wonder."

"Do you think about it often?"

"Sometimes." I acknowledged vaguely, a little uncomfortable with bearing all to her.

How strange it seemed, that more conversation had been exchanged since the start of this deranged trip, than at any other point in our relationship. Perhaps it should be compulsory for every struggling alliance.

An association that had brought us now to the Pennsylvanian border, and the start of the state park that stretched far into New York. There was no marker signalling the borderline, but having run through the area on numerous occasions I could roughly predict we had run through it.

I hadn't worn a watch, so time keeping came from my limited skill in judging the suns location in the sky. Hazarding a guess at around five in the afternoon, but no later than six, putting our total time in the wilderness at around three or four hours, not long enough to arouse suspicion about our location, but it wouldn't be long. I blanched at the thought, because it still wasn't enough, they wouldn't be able to stop her. We had a good sixty mile head start, running with the land topography and crossing numerous trails we had forged weeks and months beforehand.

Unless they managed to track us this far, it would be almost impossible for them to follow. Even if they jumped to the correct conclusion, and attempted to intercept us in Rochester before nine o'clock, they had better start running.

It appeared I was on my own for this, there was nothing I could do to stop her. Unless this was to take a physical turn, and if such a thing did occur I predicted one of us not surviving the exchange. I would rather let her kill those men and protect the family, then put my life on the line. It was much simpler to act as a chaperone, and implement myself only if the situation got out of hand.

It was clear from her long purposeful strides, the way she deliberately ran slightly ahead of myself, that she would not be deterred. She only began to slow when the trees began to thin and the final edge of Allegany came to its conclusion, the once lustrous forest became mottled by farmland. And where there was farmland, there were usually farms and subsequently humans.

"From here on out, you need to be vigilant. We'll go from woodland to woodland, and keep to the hedgerows while on farmland. And let's be cautious about this weather." I announced, giving the azure blue sky and patchy cloud cover a foreboding look.

"How far away?" Rosalie questioned, pulling down the turned up cuffs on her shirt.

"Around seventy miles to Geneseo, but we need to give Franklinville a wide birth." I replied, taking my hair down from its messy bun in the hopes of concealing my face from the sun.

"Because of the bodies?" She asked with a wrinkle of the nose.

"There were a lot of remote houses in the area, which means potentially many undiscovered corpses. Several weeks in this heat, and its best we put a couple of miles between us and the town."

"That's repulsive." She scowled, following my lead in an attempt to dodge the sunlight. "The work of this Victoria."

"So you know of the elusive Victoria?" I questioned, surprised at just how much our reclusive coven member had picked up.

"Bits." She replied, trying adamantly to appear blithe of the topic. "Just that she and her mate had caused some trouble for the Denali's."

"Trouble is putting it mildly." I muttered. "But, should you ever come across her...consider her free game."

"Free game?" She questioned.

"A valid kill." I smirked, shamelessly trying to distil a shiver of fear in her. "Hunting on claimed land and refusing to move on, is validation for free game. A rule even the Volturi recognize."

Call it spiteful or just plain ill-natured on my part, but I wasn't just about to become her confident. This social tête-à-tête was tiresome, if I had to come along I would do so begrudgingly.

In the distance the hilly topography gave way to flat land, archaic of ploughed and worked fields. Dotted occasionally, at irregular intervals in between gaps in the hedgerows, were small human dwellings.

"Hold your breath and let's move." I issued. Pushing impossibly harder against the taut muscles in my legs, falling into a run that was a little more predatory. Rosalie followed nimbly matching me step for step, as we pressed as close to the hedgerows as possible. A strange game of sardines against the humans, as we tried vehemently not to stand out against the greenery. The closest we came to a house was around half a mile, but Rosalie paid the buildings no mind, and continued to run straight along her course.

I was impressed with her tact; she was obviously as headstrong and determined as her character suggested. This trait alone meant we reached Geneseo in record time, retracing old hunting grounds and familiar tracks that lead up to the house.

Nothing much had changed in the two months since my last visit, the lawn was a little overgrown, the flower borders untended. But the white washed colonial house remained perfectly persevered, tightly close up with its cream shutters. I headed straight for the back door, Rosalie following at a more sedate pace as she visually surveyed the house. Craning her neck to view the upper stories, and running her hand lightly over the back porch banister.

"It's huge." She whispered.

"It's a comfortable size, more ideal." I resorted offhandedly, too busy pulling up one of the decking slats. Once successful in removing the white painted plank, I spied the small snuff box hiding beneath. A rudimentary spare key procedure, less foolish than hiding it under the door mat.

The key fit the lock perfectly, clicking the latch open with no complications or worry. And into the house we stepped, addressing first the modern and barely used kitchen. The smell of citrus disinfectant still lingered in the air, a product of my copious and rather rigorous cleaning regime.

"Right." I breathed. "First things first, shoes off. No mud on the carpets."

* * *

><p>At quarter to eight, the antique grandfather clock in the entrance hall chimed its warning. It echoed loudly around the quiet house, followed by the whirring of its cogs and swinging of the weighted pendulum.<p>

I finished twisting up my hair into some elaborately generic fashion, adjusting the silk collar of the simple navy day dress and realising I could delay no more. Sun set was predicted for eight twenty four, and the area still needed to be scoped out. I had never really visited the business district in Rochester, having still been a little sceptical over the trustworthiness of the banks.

"Rosalie." I called, rapping my knuckles lightly on the spare room door. It opened suddenly, the threshold fixed with her stoic figure. In a similar fashion to myself, she adorned one of Esme's dark fabric dresses. Its ruffled sleeves and lace bound neckline, came an ironic look against the murderous sheen in her eyes.

"I'm ready." She smiled sinisterly.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I was so tempted to continue, but I think the chapter has come to a natural end (sorry about the cliff-hanger.) It may not be fraught with action, but I'm a sucker for a pre-plan and build up. Off to write the next chapter I go._


	49. Chapter Forty Eight: Sententia vadum non

_A/N: Alright so it's not the five days I wanted, but that is because it's a little longer than usual. And I am delighted to have finally arrived at the chapter I've been dying to write; this part of the story always fascinates me, I always wonder how the technicality of the plan was executed. But before we get to my attempt on the series of events, I shall address my reviewers and thank each one of them for allowing this story to reach two hundred and three reviews! _

_Jojo657: Thanks for reviewing. And it's uh oh indeed; things are going to get a little macabre. _

_celebritystar: I'm glad there is sympathy for Rosalie; I hoped I haven't made her into too much of an unlikeable character. How happy I am for her to finally get retribution. Thanks for another review._

_viola1701e: You are quite right about Rosalie; the desire to get revenge has in no way soiled her values. Drinking the blood of those who inflicted such horrors upon you, is quite a vile thought. And gruesome? I will honestly admit to having a love of writing gore, so expect a little. Thank you for taking the time to review once again. _

_leahmarie59: While I don't usually like characters interfering with a part of the plot they are not supposed to be involved in, I thought this was the exception. If Rosalie had gone alone to take her revenge, I think a good relationship between the two would have been nearly impossible. It's like a very strange team building exercise. I agree with you about the snow (glad it's gone now) as soon as Britain hears about snow we go into full panic mode. I'm originally from Shropshire which is up near Birmingham, and public transport was hopeless. And there shall be no breaking up of couples; I'm far too much of a canon shipper! Thank you for your review._

_CullenBoy123: Indeed it has finally arrived, seems like I've been writing the built up for ages. Thank you for another kind review. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: Glad you enjoyed it, thanks for reading and reviewing. _

_Reader1: Thanks for your review. Happy to know you are still enjoying the story. _

_Bookwormac: I'm afraid you will have to be patient for just a little bit longer, once the dealings and repercussions of this current plot are finished, I will begin Emmett's portion of the story. But not long to go now! Thanks for the review._

_Sarah-A-A: Thank you so much for finding the time to review, even with your busy schedule. I don't worry I haven't forgotten about Rosalie and her theatrical wedding dress, it will definitely be included, just in a roundabout way. Have fun in the desert (if fun is the right word?)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga _

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Forty Eight: Sententia vadum non iuguolo<span>

Wisps of violet clouds lingered lightly over the horizon, blocking out most of the sun's last rays, while the sky to the east had already begun to darken. Against the shaded backdrop of dusk, we proceeded to surge our way towards the business district. Leaping over the closely knit roofs, an avoiding the humans ambling far below.

I ran directly at her side, within reaching distance should she dare to give in to her lust. Ready to enforce myself should this go wrong. But she displayed no sign of being affected; eyes set ahead and moving with deliberation and prowess. A target in mind she would not be deterred by such distractions as mortals.

Along the A-frames we ran with swift silence, taking the gullies and gaps with ease. Dropping down to lower roofs and leaping upwards to reaching the higher flat trusses. The Genesee River flowed noisily to our left, following our path towards the inner loop ring road and the center of the commercial area.

It was only when the residential dwellings ended that we were forced street level, the building now to irregularly spaced to proficiently scale. We arrived in the familiar shopping neighbourhood, passing along sidewalks I had occupied frequently. Passing stores I had visited on many occasions, all displaying their closed signs and tightly locked up for the night. The well-stocked and highly regarded book emporium was visible on the street corner, the squeak of its rusty hinged sign still untended. Directly across the street; and sporting a brand new awning, the domestic grocers, site of the umbrella crime.

From that very spot I had entered into an altercation with the very women I was currently aiding in a murder plot, how times had changed.

Merely ten paces from that spot, Rosalie began to slow until she stopped dead outside another store window. My grip quickly found her elbow, holding it tightly to ensure she could not escape to hunt whatever had taken her attention.

"Let's move." I whispered sternly, attempting to pull her down the street.

But she would not move, feet planted heavily to the ground in adamant refusal. In a hesitant motion her gloved hand rose to touch the lead latticed window, her gaze taken by the lavish display of bridal trousseau. "My dress." She murmured quietly.

My mind jumped to the memory of the altercation, perhaps Rosalie and her companion had been shopping for her dress that day. From her reaction to the shop before us, it looked like she had been successful in finding one.

"Rosalie, come on." I tried again using a softer tone than before.

"I just want to look." She replied, edging slowly closer towards the entrance. "They said it would be ready for pick up."

"No." I hissed, trying to pull her away from the doorway alcove. "You are deviating from the plan, we don't have time for this."

She wrenched her arm out of my grip. "We shall make time." Hissing her answer back.

"Fine." I snapped, holding my hands up in mock surrender. "I don't care what you do. I'm just here to make sure you don't kill any innocents."

She paid my statement no heed, instead jarred her palm hard enough against the old spring lock to splinter the wooden door frame. Lucky for her there was not a human in sight, or audio range of the breaking and entering stunt.

Deciding one of us should be the rational one, I stayed outside to watch the street. Allowing her to divulge in her moment alone, and for me to calm my own frayed temper. Plans were there to ensure things ran smoothly, if one plan failed another was made. Good plans ensured difficult situations were executed successfully, and everyone involved knew their roles. When deviation took place, things went wrong.

The old unattractive leather strapped watch on my wrist, divulged it was seventeen minutes past eight. We were eating into prime time that could have been put to better use. This passage of time also meant the family would have obviously realised something was amiss, I could only speculate what they were thinking. If they had gone looking for us, found our trail, maybe they were already on their way. I had tried to run a relatively straight byway, avoided zig zagging my footfalls and passing through any water sources. But we did not have a proficient tracker in the family, and it was a tremendously long way to follow a trail.

The sooner this night ended and I was back home, the better.

Another glance at the watch and it was eight twenty one, the final light of the day was slowly giving in and prevailing to complete darkness, we were not progressing. I failed to understand why it was taking her so long to simply reminisce over a dress.

"Rosalie." I hissed through the threshold. "Make haste, we don't have all night."

"I'm coming." She replied airily.

I stepped into the dark store, ready to tell her to leave everything as was. We did not want to add burglary to our list of felonies accomplished this night.

"What the...shit." Was all I managed, upon viewing Rosalie in full crisp white bridal trousseau. Its bounty of lace and ribbon, chiffon and glass beads, made her a beacon to the eye.

"This was the one." She said wistfully, her hands tracing the down the blossoming skirt fabric. "The dress that made me so superior to everyone else, they would look upon me and be overwhelmed with envy. I hoped vehemently that you would read the wedding notice in the Times-Union, read how beautiful I looked, and be assured it was I who was superior."

"That's...lovely." I said, struggling to come up with a reply. "Now please just take the dress off and let's leave."

"Why?" She questioned, positioning the netted veil about either side of her face. "It's my dress, I should at least get to wear it once."

"Look." I bit, trying to settle the growl that rumbled in my chest. "You asked for my aid, I have given it to you. But you seem to be doing everything in your power to disregard the plan."

"I'm ready now." She declared, seemingly ignoring my comment and checking her reflection once over. "I'm definitely ready."

I was void of a reply, the theatrics of this revenge was almost too humorous for words. Instead I simply grabbed her discarded day dress, and tidied up the mess she had left behind.

"Put your damn coat on." I demanded, throwing the item in her direction. "You may want to pick up your train, we're going to have to move through the back alleys… seeing as we can hardly recommend ourselves as inconspicuous anymore."

She decided against replying, instead rather obediently put on her dark fur trimmed coat. Although long in its style, but did nothing to disguise the lavish flounces of the dress. It seemed this was not to be a low key, concealed murder, but something elaborate and savoured. Something that wouldn't be over quickly.

I ushered her out of the store quickly, managing to re-lock the broken bolt and leaving the scene in a relatively pristine condition. I'd anonymously mail some money to have the lock fixed at a later date.

Knowing walking the streets was now out of bounds, we slipped down the covered side passage. Moving along the maze of small back lanes, before joining up with the unlit Riverway Trail. A track that would take us straight up to the business district. Along the mile walkway we encounter nothing but stray dogs, and in minutes we were within the ring road loop that signalled the beginning of the commercial area.

"It's not much further." Rosalie announced, the ruffles of her skirt blowing in the cross breeze.

The second hand on my unattractive watch read forty three minutes past, our time was running short. We were forced to take shelter in several doorways to avoid the headlights from passing traffic, before bolting from shadow to shadow in a dash to reach the bank before closing time. It was only with ten minutes to spare that Rochester Public National Bank came into view, on the three way junction at Franklin Street.

It stood stoic and intimidating, taking up a great space at the intersection. Its pretentious façade sheeted completely in Kato stone, four stories of columns, alcoves and a decorative bronze clock face. The small buildings surrounding it were completely drowned in its shadow, struggling to be seen past the great awning and external cornicing.

"That's it." She confirmed, her orange eyes gazing upon the building with a foreboding look. We stood directly across the road, hidden carefully amongst the trees in the luncheon plaza.

"Last chance." I announced quietly. "Last chance to turn away, once they have seen you they have to die."

"I've come too far to turn back now." She remarked, pulling her arms free from her coat and allowing the full majestic beauty of her gown to glow eerily in the waxing moon. She was definitely a haunting sight to behold. I took hold of her thick coat, wearing the garment over my light jacket to free my hands.

"Are you ready?" I questioned, eyeing the clock tower.

"Yes." She responded forcefully, standing to her full height and lording a display of superiority.

"Excellent. Lets head towards one of the side entrances, they've probably not set the night alarms yet." I replied, checking for motorcars or any human bypassers before we absconded towards the building.

We were quick to locate one of three service entrances, located in the passage between the bank and its right hand resident. The oak door stood at the top of a large stoop, although a relatively simple lock was presented, immediate access was stopped by a heavy duty wrought iron gate. Complete with some comically sharp barbs along the railings.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, I decided against attempting to wrench the gate from its hinges. Instead; and rather skilfully on my part, I unscrewed the welded bolts. Littering the now free gate against the opposite brick wall.

Making sure there was no human presence directly inside, Rosalie made quick and efficient work of the latch. Crushing the brass door handle in the palm of her hand, and with it the key lock mechanism.

We entered onto a floor of polished marble and architecture that was more befitting of a museum. Diligently I followed her pace, keeping close to her side but trying not to implement myself within the situation. Through the employee quarters we advanced, passing down stairwells and along never ending corridors. Until; deep below street level, we came across the capacious vault.

Open wide in anticipation for the safety deposit boxes, teller cash drawers, and any other valuable assets that were to be placed inside come nine o'clock. The great concrete lined door was established with cylindrical spring bolts, a combination lock and dial. All to make sure nothing got in, or out.

"Rosalie." I whispered, grasping her arm and apprehending her attention. "We need to hold back until they enter the vault."

"I know." She snapped. When she made no apparent move to find a refuge point, I took the initiative and pulled her into one of the side rooms. Luckily enough a safety deposit viewing room, and not some kind of janitorial closet. We stood stoic still in the darkness, the only noise sounding from the cogs in my watch. Waiting with bated breath to ambush a group murdering rapists, and allowing Rosalie to achieve her retribution.

High above we began to hear the descent of an elevator, squeaking its way down through the floors. It stopped on our level. The noise of the electric cogs and pulleys was now replaced by rubber soled shoes on marble, and the distant murmuring of voices.

"There all here." Rosalie announced with a vicious snarl, her body tensed and coiled for the impending attack. I kept my hand loosely on her elbow, a physical response to wait. But as the clipping of Cuban heels got closer, my attempts to seize her became pointless. The moment they stepped into the vault, she was gone. Smashing through the safe room door in the blink of an eye, the corresponding yells and curses were simultaneous. I removed myself from the refuge point, taking a stance a little way down the corridor, ready to catch any stragglers.

From the sound of their heart beats there were six humans present, all breathing in rapid succession. At the first sight of Rosalie they reacted with moral nervousness, forcefully laughing at her. The one named Royce asked where she had been hiding all this time, condemning her for bringing such bad light upon his prestigious family. They openly mocked her. But it was all a front, her image had frightened them, the sounds of their uncontrollable palpating hearts thundered loudly all around.

The echoed became deafening as Rosalie let out a primal roar. Stunning every voice silent. The clicking of metal accompanied the sudden and uncontrollable exploding of gun fire, as the humans pitifully attempted to defend themselves. Shot after shot rang out, empty cartridge cases falling to the marble with loud clanks. She must have grown restless of the display, because it was soon accompanied by the sound of guttural screams. Grown men releasing shrill howls, as she inflicted their deserved torture.

I struggled to fixate my own raging urges to involve myself with a kill, forcing myself to justifying my place in this horror scene. But I could not control myself when a stray limped my way, his slicked back hair had fallen limply across his forehead, and he held on tightly to a severely dislocated shoulder. His navy pinstriped suit was smart enough to reflect his status as some kind of a bank clerk, and a definite candidate for retribution style murder.

He failed to notice me at first, too busy fowling his mouth with curse words and checking behind him for Rosalie's sudden appearance. Eventually when we were less than thirty yards apart he noticed me, the relief of rescue soon turned back to panic as he noted my pale skin and rapidly darkening eyes.

The revolver, tightly gripped in his good hand, was immediately pointed directly at me. "M-move." He shook, gesturing to one side with the gun. "Move or I'll shoot."

When I made no motion to do so, he shot me.

The bullet pierced the layers of my clothing, burning a hole through two coats, a day dress and my favourite corset. Hitting my stone flesh with a high pitched ring that hung in the air. Upon realising I was unhurt; he fired again, this time aiming directly for my skull. When that failed, he decided to empty the remaining ammunition. Each time the bullets ricocheted harmlessly to the floor.

"How ungentlemanly." I taunted, slowly advancing upon him. "It's not nice to be ambushed, is it? Being set upon by those who are much stronger than you-" He attempted to run away, but I was already in front of him, my hand wrapped around his throat, hoisting him into the air. Feeble human hands clawed uselessly at my skin, while his legs kicked out against the sheer block of my hard skin. I could feel his rapid pulse against the palm of my hand, the flush of blood merely millimetres away.

"Do you know what I used to do to people like you?" I hissed, careful not to dig my nails into the paper thin skin of his neck. "I'd hunt you down like an animal, before savaging every last drop of blood from your body." His movement became frenzied, twisting and convulsing, lashing out in any attempt to injure me.

"But it's your lucky day, because I've strictly abstained from such...macabre hobbies." Like a rag doll he hit the floor, dragging great gasps of air into his starved lungs. His mouth opened and closed as he attempted to disclose something, but the only thing that he managed to express was a hacking cough. "Or perhaps not so lucky." I smiled, viewing a flash of white and appearance of a very deranged looking bride.

Her dress was punctuated with numerous black singed bullet holes, veil torn and half hanging from her messy hair. Once orange her eyes now glittered ebony, watching the moves of her next victim with murderous desire. Ignoring the sound of the stuttering human on the floor, my ears sort to find any other signs of life. But behind her approaching figure there was nothing but a void of silence.

"He's all yours." I announced, passing by her on the way to scout the murder scene. Wincing at the high pitched screams that suddenly filled the passage, it definitely wasn't going be a quick kill. Knowing that I had some time until she stopped tormenting her victim, I went to survey the room.

It was not a nice sight that greeted me. The stone floor was now a sea of bent and awkward corpses, littering the ground like a morbid carpet. I kicked numerous stray cartridge cases to one side on the way in, the original pistols still clenched within the hands of their deceased owners.

The room was in a shambles, bank notes and all manner of important documentation strewn haphazardly in every direction. Even the rows of safety deposit boxes had been displaced. It had been ransacked.

My mind began to consider the possibility of making this look like a human failure, a robbery gone wrong. Yet simply removing money from the scene would not be enough to humiliate these men. Instead, I began to take expensive jewellery from the personal boxes, before stuffing the items and great wads of paper notes into the pockets of the bodies. Before moving the bodies to reflect some kind of altercation having taken place. All in the hopes the authorities would slander them as embezzling bastards.

Perhaps they waited till closing time, let in external conspirators via the service entrance to traffic out the money. Maybe an argument took place; the percentage cut wasn't to someone's liking, resulting in a terrible fight and multiple murders. Whatever scenario the authorities made up, they would never suspect a vampire was the cause. And with blood still within the bodies, the Volturi would be staying at home in Volterra.

"It's all over." Rosalie announced from down the hall, her voice resonating with relief.

"Good." I announced in turn, casting one last look over the corpses before joining her. "We had better leave before someone notices they're missing."

She stepped over the body of her last victim, moving with me as we headed towards the service entrance. Through the maze of corridors and stairwells we ran, wanting more than anything to remove ourselves from the scene. Upon reaching the familiar exit door, we wasted no time on locks and bolts, instead breaking down the door to further instil the idea of a robbery. She quickly took back her thick coat, in its deep pockets the day dress she had originally worn folded up tightly. Covered up as best she could, we once again stole back into the safety of the darkness, heading towards the house in Geneseo.

"Thank you." She whispered, as we merged into the unlit walkways. "I just want you to know I am grateful-"

"It's fine." I interrupted. "I'll save you the trouble, I know for you and I expressing sentiments is difficult. I acknowledge your thanks, and thusly ban any other sentimental words from being exchanged. For they will all be needed when an explanation to the family is required."

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><p><em>AN: And it is finally done, I hope my attempts can go some way to matching up with the original theatrical version. Thanks once again for everyone's reviews. _


	50. Chapter Forty Nine: Revertetur

_A/N: Turns out leaving your twenty thousand word dissertation till a week before the deadline is not such a good idea, and unfortunately this story had to take a back seat while I wrote and cried. But thank goodness several all-nighters solved the dissertation problem, I managed to hand it in to my lecturer; who did not comment on my resemblance to a corpse (which is strangely ironic because my paper is on forensics.) Now that all that nastiness is over, I can finally get back to writing something I enjoy. _

_First my thanks to everyone who has reviews, alerted, favoured etc. _

_Jojo657: Thank you for your review. Time to find out how the others are going to react to the return of our adventuring duo._

_celebritystar: At first I planned a heart to heart between the two, but then I remembered that kind of exchange is really not very Bella-esque, curt is more her style. Thanks for the review._

_Sarah-A-A: While some members of the family are going to be more understanding, there is one who may not be so forgiving (and we can all predict who that is.) I'm glad you had fun on your camping trip, it sounds amazing. And thanks for another review._

_viola1701e: Indeed what's done is done, Rosalie has had her vengeance, spilt no blood which means no Volturi (although I am a little disappointed about that, I do love Aro and his excitable ways.) Thank you for reviewing._

_Matthias Stormcrow: Happy to hear from you, thanks for taking time to review._

_MissMartha: Welcome to the story. It's always a little humbling to get such comments, thanks so much for taking the time to review. _

_CullenBoy123: Thanks for reviewing, so glad it met your expectations, it was a tough one to write. Glad you liked it._

_demilovato4eva: Originally I did have Bella killing the man in the suit, but seeing as this was Rosalie's revenge it seemed only right that she did the killing. I'll admit it's going to be a while before Alice and Jasper join the family, but Emmett's story is up next. Thank you for reviewing. _

_lifehatesme: Welcome to the story, glad you've found us. Thanks for the review and I hope you continue to enjoy._

_Bookwormac: Pleased to know you liked the chapter. I'll try to speed up, but I'm afraid I'm kind of a slow writer. Thanks for the review! _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Forty Nine: Revertetur<span>

July 6th 1933

In a clearing some two miles or so from the house in Geneseo, I once again found myself tending another dubious fire. Watching another article of clothing go up in flames after being involved in a less than legal act; leaving me to wonder if I perhaps possessed the face of an arsonist.

But the sheer about of synthetic fabric the wedding dress comprised of, was releasing some interesting toxins into the air. Burning plastic contended with gunpowder from the residue left on the garment, mixing to create something hazardous. I stood upwind to avoid entangling myself within the fumes; having to wash your hair in lemon juice was nauseating.

While I continued to mentally calculate possible herbal remedies for my hatred of lingering smoke, Rosalie decided to grace me with her presence. Dressed in the same cotton dress she had departed the house in, and a pair of flat leather boots upon her feet.

"Did you lock the house?" I questioned, playing aimlessly with the end of my long braid.

"Yes." She acknowledged, eyes fixated on the curling cinders of her dress. "Everything is back in the attic, dust sheet on the furniture and key back in its little box under the decking."

"Excellent, once this has burnt itself out we can be on our way." I replied, eager to begin the journey back home.

"Do you think they will understand?" She questioned, not looking up from the fascinating sight of the dress meeting its end. "Now that it's done."

"I cannot speak for them." I answered. "But I can presume; although they may not agree with your actions, they have the insight to understand. And are most probably more worried about you and your blood lust, than the death of some criminals."

"And Edward?" She inquired.

"He will understand." I stated, hoping to convince myself with the brazen words.

Rosalie scoffed. "Please, he may be able to read my mind, but he has a tendency to disregard rational thoughts when it involves you."

"Yes, well he may be a little over protective." She shot me a rather bemused look. "Alright." I held my hands up in surrender. "He is incredibly protective, but I shall worry over such things when we get to that point. You just put your attentions into…being more… agreeable."

"Agreeable?" She remarked, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"Yes." I renounced boldly. "You're part of this coven and we like to function as a family, which means we try to be as agreeable with each other as possible."

"What happens if I don't want to be a part of that family?" She said carefully, seemingly testing my phrasing .

"You can attempt to go it alone. Try to survive. I wouldn't recommend it. Even a brazen bitch like me couldn't handle it. And if I'm honest you owe me one, I ventured to join you in a killing spree, you return to the family. Were even."

"That's blackmail." She reported, attempting to look put out by my declaration.

"You'll get over it." I replied unperturbed. Her worry over the thoughts of the other, displayed her desire for acceptance. She was just a little bit too proud in her nature to openly admit it.

As the fire finally ate the last of its fuel and dimmed to lowly embers, we began the arduous journey back home. The whole course was made easier on our part by the cover of darkness, clouds had rolled in from the great lakes and covered any light from the moon. We were able to deviate from the hedgerows and run straight across the fields. From Letchworth to Allegany State Park we encountered nothing but our approaching tracks, and the apprehension surrounding crossing paths with the family continued to grow.

But upon passing back into the realm of Pennsylvania; merely two or so miles from the border, there came almost an instantaneous moment in which we could sense the presence of the others. Having run with the flow of the wind, they had already picked up on our scents and were quickly approaching.

"Should we wait?" Rosalie questioned, already slowing down to a steadfast jog.

"Alright." I acknowledge, stopping amongst the thickets and allowing her to have a moment. She didn't have long, with Edward's fast pace it was mere seconds.

He was less than pleased, making no real effort to stop his demanding pace, and leaving Esme and Carlisle struggling to keep up. I could only shoot Rosalie a look of warning, before attempting to implement myself within the situation. Grabbing hold of him before he could continue directing his anger towards Rosalie. I placed my hands firmly on his chest, feeling his rumble of animosity beneath my palms.

"Edward." I warned, pushing him back. "Leave it."

There was a moment of calm where he visibly relaxed under my touch, but quickly became enraged again, as I presumed he had pieced together what had occurred through Rosalie's thoughts. I struggle to keep him at bay, not wanting to inflict any hurt upon him.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rip her apart." He growled.

"Because there is no need to do such a thing." I declared with a huff of effort. "Everything is fine."

"No." He bit with blunt refusal. "Her narcissistic and selfish nature is putting this family in jeopardy." Rosalie let out a hiss of indignation in response, the rumble of her own growl becoming background noise. The tension of the highly strung situation lingered on for an age, only broken with the final arrival of Carlisle and Esme.

The two came to view such an undesirable scene. While I attempted to stop Edward and his anger, Rosalie continued to hiss in her own protective stance. Not your typical family feud.

Being a proficient negotiator, Carlisle was quick to act. Stepping in between the gap I was struggling to maintain, and adding an extra barrier between the two.

"Edward, enough." He stated firmly. "You need to cool off."

He made no motion to move at first, his dark eye still narrowed towards Rosalie. Eventually the resolve of Carlisle's undoubtedly reasonable unspoken demands had an effect, his muscles relaxed and I was able to pull him forcefully away from the situation. Throwing a relieved smile of thanks towards Carlisle.

With my hand wrapped awkwardly around his wrist, I contended to briskly walk us far from the confrontation. Trampling through the pitch black with no intended path, other than to create a little distance. When enough space had been gathered, I let go of my tight grip upon his wrist.

"Why did you go with her?" Came his instantaneous first question, the harsh tone reflecting his still simmering temper.

"Because she could not be trusted alone." I replied vaguely.

"Then why didn't you come and find us…find me." He demanded.

"You think I didn't want too?" I snapped, finally feeling the crumble of my resolve. "You think I wanted to go off on a fucking morbid adventure?"

"You've done it before."

The words that came from his mouth were like a physical strike, sharp and painful. I could almost feel the air expel from my lungs in one great whoosh. Bringing up my departure from the family was like agitating an old wound, the guilt and hurt those years had brought resurfaced with a vengeance. My lips mashed together tightly, quelling whatever burst of emotion that wanted to surface.

"I-I didn't mean that." He responded with a panic, having the decency to look aghast at his own outburst.

"You're angry so I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. Go hunt." I stated, waving vaguely towards the trees. "I'll see you back at the house."

In the range of my feelings and childish ways in dealing with them, I departed away from Edward without sorting out the situation. The relations of the past day, added together with a spat, had left me emotionally drained. And so I ran straight for home, pathetically fighting against the fatigued sobs in my throat the whole way.

The small clad house came into view like a welcome comfort, its white wash paint standing out brilliantly against the darkness. I all but stumbled in my haste to enter, making quick for the comfort of our bedroom. Being surrounded by the comforts of home was enough to make me feel safe, but material possessions could only go so far. The bitterness of an argument could not be masked by things, especially when the room comprised of a combination of items, both his and mine.

My chest blossomed with another loud bout of guilt; I regretted not apologising to him. For if the roles had been reversed, I was quite sure I would have gone mad with worry. Coming to the most awful conclusions in my mind. His anger was justified; I should have explained myself better, put his mind to rest. But all the things that should have been said always came after the discussion.

With the bedroom now giving me no comfort or aid, I decided on a near scalding bath to wash away the dirt. While the water ran into the roll top bath, I took a moment to regard my reflection. The purple bruises beneath my eyes seemed all the more pronounced, my skin more translucent and my hair limp, I categorized myself as weary looking. The numerous bullet holes riddling my clothing were awful looking, while the splattering of gun powder tainted the left side of my bangs grey. I looked like an inhabitant of a bedlam asylum.

I stripped away the remains of my clothes, falling into the water with a flourish. The near boiling water was hot against my frigid skin, the steam immediately condensing on my cheeks and dripping off my chin. I washed the knotty tangles of hair three times to free it of the gunpowder, pervading the room with the scent of rosé shampoo and getting soap suds up the tiles.

I sat in the water until the boiling temperature gave way to my cold skin, and it was no longer therapeutic.

The loud silence of the house continued to linger as I changed into a new set of clothes, wrestling with the tangles of my hair before they became impossible. Every task I partook in was nothing more than simply acting through the motions, my mind was too busy festering in between awful feelings and attempting to assure myself everything would be alright.

With a fit of human like mannerism I decided hiding beneath the duvet should solve my problems, if only to stop me periodically gazing at my wedding rings in guilt. But it only left me with the assurance I was perhaps the most pathetic vampire in existence, hiding under the covers and wishing the whole nightmare of the day would just end.

In the time it took me to mentally weep myself into a small depression, the sound of approaching footfalls could be heard along the outer limits of the property. Even in the pitch dark I closed my eyes, engaging my other senses towards the nearing figure, and before he even reached the path to the house I knew it was Edward.

He reached the porch, not even attempting to avoid the creaky section after the steps, before removing his shoes on the mat and stepping inside.

Feeling like the situation should be handled with adult like characteristics; I reluctantly removed myself from my hiding place. Tossing my damp hair away from my face, and brushing the imaginary creases out of my pink house dress. And with resolution in mind, I picked up my soiled adventure clothes and headed towards the conflict.

Once the clothing; now also heading for a fiery end, was dumped in the bin, I found him in the sitting room. Occupying the end seat of the settee with his hands fisted tightly in his hair, it appeared so unruly I was quite sure he had been running his hands through it constantly.

"You shall pull out your hair if you continue." I stated quietly, moving to stand next to the sofa end and untangling his fists. Once free his arms found their way around my waist, pulling us together.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, placing his forehead against my torso. "I shouldn't have said such a thing."

"You know I will always forgive you." I replied, making an attempt to fix his messy hair. "I'm sorry that I made you worry, but I really would have let you know about her plan if the situation had allowed."

"I know." He stated. "But when you never came back, my thoughts...jumped to the worst conclusions. Honestly I was angrier at myself for not working out her plan before hand, I should have known."

"Don't be stupid." I scolded lightly. "Your sole purpose in life is not to monitor the thoughts of others, and no one expects you too."

"But I should be able to protect you." He declared vehemently.

"You do." I argued. "Protecting me from strange vampire's I have a tendency to have altercations with, from attacking Rosalie on numerous occasions, and not to mention protecting me from myself. But you can't do it always; you just have to trust that I'm bolshie enough to protect myself."

He didn't reply, even in here the pressures of society conformed towards men defending women. But for the vampire race those ideas just didn't translate, while we females may have been slighter than our counterparts, it in no way made us physically weaker.

I removed his arms from around my waist, instead taking a close seat next to him on the plush sofa. "You still owe me my bet." I parried, relieved to see the creases of worry dissipate from his brows.

"How do you know about the score?" He questioned, sitting back in his seat.

"The Bostonians are superior, of course they won."

"They got lucky this time." He announced frankly.

"Lucky or not, that's one hundred for me and one hundred for Carlisle." I grinned, shifting to sit on my folded legs. "Cash only."

"Robbery." He declared, tugging on a curled strand of my drying hair.

"Call it what you will, you still owe me. And…I also need a favour, seeing as we're on a related topic." I stated, shuffling at little closer still.

"A favour?" He repeated, the audacity of a dubious look upon his face. "As much as I would happily do anything for you, I feel it is within my best interests to ask what does it entail?"

"Nothing complex or horrid, just...a little slack for Rosalie." I tried. He narrowed his eyes, the muscle in his jaw clenching as he bit the resort that he was so close to outing. "Please. I'm not asking for you to become her confident, just a little slack. I know what she did was..."

"Selfish, stupid and downright insane."

"Tactically insensible. But she did it with her own self-preservation in mind, not with malicious intent towards the family."

"Do you believe now the situation has been remedied, she will become more admirable." He inquired.

"Admirable...that is wishful thinking, but more agreeable is achievable for her. For that to happen we have to give her a chance." I responded, my ears picking up on the faraway approach of footfalls. "Please." Resorting to a small beg.

"Very well." He announced quietly. "If you believe she is deserving of a chance, then so do I." I all but threw myself at him, embracing with enough vigour to convey how much I ardently loved him. Reveling in the feeling that everything was going to be alright. "You do know I shan't be letting you out of my sight for a while." He mumbled, kissing the side of my neck.

"I think I can deal with that." I replied.

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><p><em>AN: And forty nine is done, and with it the completion of Rosalie's section of the story and onto Emmett's. Thanks for everyone's continued support. _


	51. Chapter Fifty: Iustitia

_A/N: We have officially reached chapter fifty, it's a nice whole number that's half of one hundred and I feel it needs a little commemoration. This chapter came from a sudden bout of inspiration, and a whole day off in which I wrote till my fingers grew sore. I hope you enjoy, but first my usual thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted and favoured._

_ForgeandGred4Ever: I can't wait for Emmett to join, a little comic relief and boyish behaviour. Thanks for reviewing. _

_CullenBoy123: He seems to be everyone's favourite character, who doesn't love him and his unperturbed nature towards being a vampire. Thanks for another review._

_MissMartha: Thanks for your review. I'm glad you picked up on that, I wanted to show Bella's emotional growth and her ability to deal with situations (although hiding under the duvet probably didn't reflect that.) And with Bella telling him to cut Rosalie some slack, I think he'll do as he's told._

_Sarah.A.A: Another keen Emmett fan! I have definitely got my work cut out for his story. I certainly hope Rosalie will be more agreeable, if not there are numerous people who can give her a gentle reminder. If not I'm sure the addition of her love interest will make her much more agreeable. Hope your sister is enjoying the story, and thanks for the review._

_viola1701e: Indeed I am going to have fun writing him into the story. Emmett will definitely have a profound effect on Rosalie; and subsequently the destruction of houses. I can imagine Esme making him live in a tent, I love that idea! Thanks for the review._

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thank you for another kind review!_

_Dislaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga. _

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><p><span>Chapter Fifty: Iustitia<span>

Wednesday 3rd July 1912: Wreck Commissioner's Court, Westminster, London.

From the public gallery the mirage of jet clothing swaddled the stoic figures sat on the benches, while most would have complained about common seating arrangement given any other situation, today they were silent. Ebony lace, black ribbon and dark French muslin became a repetitive theme for all those who looked into the veiled faces of the public.

The Wreck Commissioner and his assessors could feel the heat of society's expectations; their penetrating gaze burnt every man who stood within the Royal Court. The people watching down upon them were not the general public, they were society's aristocrats. Primarily made of widows, mothers and sisters, female relations of RMS Titanic's victims.

Members of the court had been notified beforehand to the selection of the final day's community sentries, there were the familiar names; those who had attended nearly every hearing, and those who had come to listen to the final report. But amongst the vision in the black, the gentlemen were wary of one figure in particular who had watched over every single day of the inquest. Sitting in a seat than had become her designated spot, and harbouring a loss that could produce no recovery, Mrs Charles J Swan had come for the last day.

She sat on the front bench, left hand side and closest to the witness stand, never uttering a word throughout the long days. Each morning she came to the court in her motorcar, dress immaculately in the heavy garments of morning and pinned with stunning variations of Whitby Jet. She void any attention from the press, unperturbed by their call and shouts for information as they were kept at bay by the court officials.

The papers had begun to use her as symbol of respectable morals, mourning her loss with proper integrity and standing with chaste lingering Victorian Values. But the hand woven lace veil that fell from her black Ascot hat, cast a shadow that could not be penetrated by the flash-lamp cameras. Today they were particularly pressing, a hunger for the final story, and answers for their readers.

Inside the inquiry court the evidence was still being considered, questions still being asked and a formal report still within note form.

"It is a most extraordinary thing that no attempt was made to communicate with the Titanic." The Commissioner stated, leaning forward over the high dock to address the members below.

"Quite, the more extraordinary inasmuch as I have certainly understood as the Rule which everybody who goes to sea would never fail to observe, that if you see a vessel in distress you must do your utmost to get to it." Replied the tall Attorney-General, pacing the floor ahead of the table of naval and maritime experts.

"You are correct, Sir." Confirmed one.

"And I have come to understand, certainly amongst sailors, not only in this country, but elsewhere, that it is a Rule of honour from which they do not depart." The Attorney continued.

"Tis." Confirmed another expert, with a nod.

"Well then in this particular case, I am unable to find any possible explanation of what happened." The Attorney said, slicing his hand through the air to hit his palm. "The only explanation may be that the Captain of the rescue vessel was in ice for the first time, and would not take the risk of going to the rescue of another vessel. But even that does not explain why they did not call up the wireless operator to ascertain what the condition of things. We have heard no explanation of it."

"And so what do you suggest?" Frowned the stern Commissioner.

"That this vessel, the Californian, could have got to the Titanic, and might have got to the Titanic in time to save the passengers. It is; I am afraid, the irresistible conclusion from this evidence. If she was at this distance of five to seven miles, and she could steam eleven knots an hour; she did steam eleven - she could, in fact, do as much as thirteen - even allowing for her having to deviate so as to avoid the ice-field, there still would have been a very considerable opportunity for her to have got there in time, more especially, I think, if you take into account that there must have been some discrepancy between the clocks, or anyhow, the time as given of these events by the Witnesses for the Californian."

There were loud sobs from the public gallery, and two women were escorted from the court.

"Now I do not propose to go further into the evidence of the Californian; unless your Lordship desires it, because it seems to me that when you have got those facts, really there is sufficient to establish quite clearly that these distress signals which were seen, and seen at a distance which would have enabled the Californian to get to the Titanic. I entail that when the consorting evidence is once again consider at trial, the proper action is taken."

"Hear-hear." Agreed the experts.

"Your final conclusion, Sir?" Nodded the Commissioner.

"The final conclusion to which I would call attention would be this: that this Court may recommend most useful precautions for saving life. And The Board of Trade and Parliament may take the amplest care that proper precautions should be prescribed, and that there should be a sufficient protection given to those who are sailing on the seas against loss of life in the event of disaster."

The harsh whisper from the gallery, warrant a reminder from the Commissioner for silence.

"And I can only say that as the result of this Enquiry it is to be hoped that no vessel will ever take such utterly unnecessary risks as I submit were taken on this voyage - that no vessel will ever again take such a risk as that, and that it will always be borne in mind by those who are responsible for the navigation. With that, and thanking your Lordship, and thanking your Lordship in all earnestness and sincerity for the patience with which you have listened to this long Enquiry, I leave the matter to your Lordship for your Report." The Attorney-General finished, mopping his brow with the edge of his handkerchief.

"Very well. Thank you, Mr. Attorney, members of the board and to all witnesses to have attended their accounts. For the benefit of all those who have suffered at the hands of this horrific disaster and to those who seek answers." He gazed meaningfully at the row of mourning jet. "I will do my upmost to get this Report out in reasonable time. And with that I duly conclude this inquiry, you may all rise."

There immediately came a great barrage noise, moving chairs, shuffling papers and murmuring voices. A rather lithe looking clerk collected up his piles of handwritten documents, filing them away within a severe looking case. Once his task complete he quickly following after the departing figure of the Chief Commissioner, his great strides sending his black robe billowing dramatically out behind him. He cast a final look back, catching sight of the empty public gallery. They would be full of spectators once the lawsuits and expense charges came; he wondered how many cases against White Star Line he would pervade over.

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><p>One by one the line of carriages and motorcars became filled with their owners; chauffeurs attempting to open doors amongst the hustle of the press and explosions of magnesium flash powder. The streets around the Royal Court of Justice were packed with every type of class, those affected by the disaster and those with simple morbid curiosity. All kept at bay by a formidable line of metropolitan constables and mounted officers.<p>

The moment a familiar Wolseley graced the scene the ruckus only got louder, and they were soon rewarded by the departing figure of one of society's most wealthy widows. As per usual nothing was exchanged with the journalists, as she walked straight to her awaiting motorcar and departed the scene.

Amongst the plush upholstered seating and covered windows of the car, Mrs Swan let out a harsh ragged breath against the confines of her corset. The leather in her tailored gloves creaked as she attempted to calm the uncontrollable shakes of her hands, and trembles in her weak legs.

"Home." She whispered to the driver.

Without fail for thirty six days she had attended the British Wreck Commissioner's Inquiry; before everything had transpired the idea of sitting through something so monotonous would have never appealed. Yet things were not commonplace anymore.

She could feel it, every day since that moment she had felt it. A great hole that burnt within her chest, continuous aching and yearning that was unrelenting. It made her weak, breathless and sick. And the worst part of the barrage of pain, was the notion it could never be cured. For it accompanied a loss she knew she would never recover from.

Seventy four days had passed, every waking moment, every moment she closed her eyes, she could see them. Their smiling faces, the sound of their voices, the overwhelming blithe that accompanied their very presence. But after every happy memory she could not control the way her mind jumped to that last moment. The last time she saw her husband on the deck of _that_ ship, smoking his cigar with a serene look upon his handsome face. Looking so tall and grand, the vision she had been so charmed by all those years ago.

She had buried her beloved husband; in his favourite spot amongst the great gardens of their Kent estate, having been given the chance to say her goodbyes.

But fate had been cruel and dealt its most heartless hand, taking away her only child. Her baby, her daughter. There was no recovery of the body from the water, and so no chance to say goodbye, no chance to grieve. Even to this moment she could hear the sound of her child's scream, her failed attempts to reach her, and the agonizing way the fabric of her dress slipped through her fingers. The memories were raw and riddled with guilt, immediately inflaming the hole, bringing a great aching lump to her throat and burning tears to the surface.

Behind her glove and veil she stifled an anguished sob, biting down painfully on her lip to stop the noise. The driver either didn't notice, or had the dexterity to pretend. Allowing her to take several haggard breaths and settle her simmering emotions from the surface.

Each day she had returned to court, listened with macabre rapture to each witness, every scrap of information and the insight given by the naval experts. And so after thirty four days, they declared the reasons for her loss had been through human error and oversight. A ship that had failed to answer the distress call, a record speed in ice-fields, engineering faults in the water tight bulk heads. Yet nothing would have mattered, had there been a sufficient number of lifeboats upon _that_ ship.

White Star Line could have made it so, they possessed the money to install life preservation for every person on _that_ ship. As the reasons mounted her mind decided, she was going to deliver a lawsuit straight to the shipping company. Liability had to be taken; they needed to be held accountable.

She may not have been the most intellectual type, not well read like her daughter, or proficient in other languages. But she was cunning. The daughter of a middle class doctor with higher ambitions than her simple situation. Once upon a time she had set her sights on a wealthy and handsome older gentleman, through carefully planned meetings and smiles, her cunning nature had paid off. She had married that gentleman.

And now she would use that cunning nature to ruin White Star Line, the money was of no consequence, but justice would be served.

Mrs Swan exited her motorcar outside Number Six Grosvenor Square, ignoring the people passing along the street and entering the house in a sway of black. Her black coat was removed with aid of the house butler, he offered her high tea but she declined, feinting fatigue. She walked up the grand staircase, averting her eyes from the portraits that hung along the walls. Her destination was the master suite, the safety and comfort of its walls and the promise of a dark sanctuary.

But her feet stopped well before reaching that door, instead she found herself face to face with another. One that she had denied her house staff access to, one that she herself had not entered since they had departed that morning.

She could hear her laboured breathing, the lump returning to her throat and the familiar flare of pain. Her gloved hand reached out independently of her want, clasping the brass handle and twisting it. The click of the spring lock, sending her legs into uncontrollable tremors.

It swung open with no hesitation in the hinges, revealing the perfectly persevered cream and lavender bedroom. The sunlight streamed into the room through three great single hung windows, catching the dancing dust from months of neglect. Onto to soft cream carpet she walked, automatically tracing a path she had taken so frequently. Barraging in to tell her some idle piece of gossip, what to wear and how to pin her hair. She could picture everything so clearly.

Tears began to build up along the lids of her hazel eyes, clinging along her lashes until they began to fall. Snaking tracks through the light powder on her face, and dripping onto the jet stone of her necklace.

It was a sight on the bedside cabinet that became her undoing, that allowed a cry to break through her lips. A simple book, pages and binding worn through repetitive reading. Lying spine down and open, waiting for its reader to pick it up and continue.

But they never would.

The hole got impossibly wider, spilling its bounty of emotions through her; uncontrollable tremors accompanied heart wrenching wails. Her hands found their way to the veil, ripping it painfully from the snarls of hair.

"Why?!" She screamed over and over, ignoring the hastening sounds of footsteps approaching.

There were sudden voices within the room, people calling her name. She attempted to fight against the first hands trying to subdue her, but couldn't fight for long, the repercussion of the never ending emotions had taken their toll. She gave into the next, gripping on tightly to their arms in search of support. Something to take away the loneliness.

"Hush now." Came the familiar strong accent of Margret, struggling to calm the hysterical outburst of her mistress. Eventually she began to calm, the incessant cries becoming less frequent.

"Why?" She whispered brokenly. "Why did they take my Isabella?"

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><p><em>AN: Ok so it's a little angsty, but I wanted to do something different for chapter fifty. I hope you enjoyed the chapter (enjoyed perhaps being the key word.) _

_I can't take all the credit for the inquest speech, after doing a little research I found a great website called the "Titanic Inquest Project", which has made electronic copies of the inquest speeches; both the American and British. It would be impossible to include everything within the report, even on the last day. So I have summed up the speeches and tried to make them a little easier to understand; there was a lot of maritime jargon. So thank goodness for them. _

_Thanks for reading!_


	52. Chapter Fifty One: Etiam progredieris

_A/N: Finally we are within the realm of Emmett's story; they have finally made the move to North Carolina and are merely fifty miles from Gatlinburg, Tennessee. With only the Great Smoky Mountains in-between, and hoards of angry black bears. Oh and hunting seasons approaching. So with further ado, thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted and favoured the story. _

_Guest: Thanks for such a great review, I always love knowing people are enjoying the story. And how thankful I am that you picked up on my mistake! I've been using it in the wrong context the whole time (I feel a facepalm is needed) when I begin my editing (which will occur eventually)I'll sort that one out! Hope you continue to enjoy!_

_smudge704: Thanks for reviewing, and successfully making me blush with the compliments. Glad to hear you like the story so far. And I think with a past as incredible and harrowing as Bella's, she will definitely find out. Not sure when quite yet, but it's happening. _

_Areej.A.A: Welcome to the story, I'm so happy that you're enjoying it so far. And I'd love to answer your questions, but I don't have a definite answer to Bella getting her memory back yet. I have a few ideas; a really keen one is having Alice involved somehow. But I'm sure one will eventually write itself in, before Alice and Jasper, or including. Thanks for the review, I love answering peoples queries! _

_reader346: Sorry! I hope I haven't torn you away from your essay (writing it in Spanish doesn't sound fun, I took Spanish and was utterly hopeless.) If only there was a Fanfic filter, only delivering emails when all other class work was complete. I'd maybe actually do my work then. Hope you managed to get it done, and thanks for the review._

_Bookwormac: Yes, it's finally here. And seeing as there is no need for a social build up; as Emmett is a complete stranger to the family upon his change, it will hopefully be a lot quicker. No building hatred between the vampire and the human, just a terrible accident involving a bear. And although Rosalie can be a bitch, we can't help but want to see her happy with Emmett. Thanks for reviewing. _

_Guest: I love writing a bit of Rosalie, Bella bonding time, but can't help but miss Bella and Edward as a couple when I do. As for Rosalie she's about to get a whole lot more cooperative. Thanks for your review._

_MissMartha: I'm glad I managed to convey that, it was a difficult chapter to write emotions wise. Having never experienced anything so awful, it was hard getting within a mind set to write something so grief ridden. Indeed those are the speeches from the British Wreck Inquest; there was so much technical jargon, that it almost overwhelmed the real reasons to why they were there. But nonetheless a very interesting read. Thanks for reviewing. _

_viola1701e: That's the reason I wanted to write the chapter, it's not very often the stories of those left behind get told. I really wanted to attempt to write what it must have been like; I'm sure putting the energy required for grief into something like taking revenge must be a welcome change in emotion. With no inquest to attend every day, I'm sure she's seeking something to fill the days. Thanks for your review. _

_Jojo657: Oh no how? Probably my fault, I have a tendency to jump around a bit. Hope you have found the missing one. _

_CullenBoy123: Hope I didn't make you cry! That was not my intention (well maybe a little,) luckily Emmett should come with a dose of comic relief. Thanks for the review. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: One word…Emmett. It's finally beginning. Thank you for another review. _

_Sarah.A.A: Emmett himself is not within this chapter, but the way I'm going about his story he should be within the next. And I'm still toying with the idea of incorporating Alice within the relevance of Bella's past; I do like that idea very much. Thanks for your review!_

_Gracegoddess: I love writing the past chapter so much; I swear I should just do a spin off. It really does chance the dynamics, gives me a muse to continue when things get a little bogged down. It is hard to be completely creative when the plot has already been dictated by the original book; therefore these little additions just make me happy. I'm glad you liked the chapter, thanks for the review. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga. _

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><p><span>Chapter Fifty One: Etiam progredieris<span>

January 3rd 1935, Waynesville, North Carolina.

"I am determined to make town by next week." Rosalie declared, pointing the spanner in my direction for added emphasis.

"Your determination is admirable, but it cannot command the weather." I replied, swinging by legs back and forth from my perch on the workbench.

Her lip curled up in discontent, as if suddenly remembering something foul. "Will wishful thinking not prevail?"

"Probably not, but if anyone were to tame the elements with pure lip, I'd stake my money on you." I announced, fingering the label on the bottle of turpentine.

"I'm not above trying." She responded. The braid on her shoulder was tossed carelessly over her shoulder as it started to become a hindrance; she returned to the open bonnet of the broken down Packard.

"You got a diagnosis for me yet?" I prompted, staying on my bench to avoid stepping into her designated work space. We had already been through such a discussion.

"Hard to say." She murmured, tinkering with something in the engine bay. "But I can say some of the fuses have blown."

"So driving a motorcar at top speed for that long, really isn't recommended?" I mused.

"No." She declared bluntly. "But it was fun, especially when we almost got pulled over by the highway patrol."

"Shh." I hushed quickly, looking around inconspicuously for any signs of the others. "That little piece of information is remaining between the two of us."

"And the excuse for this." She gestured towards the motorcar, sidestepping the smoke billowing from its bonnet grills.

"You're good with mechanics, make something up." I replied, looking distastefully at the oil slick pooling underneath the car. "Can you fix it?"

"Probably." She blew a stray tangle of hair away from her face, her hands too dirty to do the job. "I may need some parts, new fuses, the radiator is looking a little worse for wear and it could do with a new carburettor."

"I'm sure there's a junkyard somewhere in the area. We could attempt to go tomorrow, after town, if the weather holds." I said, attempting to stick the label back onto the bottle.

"You're on." She declared.

With a plan agreed upon, and Rosalie far too engrossed with her passion for mechanics to hold a conversation, I sort to find other people to take my interest. Carlisle was void; he had finally gotten the chance to uphold a job at a hospital once again. The Medical Centre served the people within the Haywood region as the closest hospital, before reaching the city of Asheville and onto the even larger cities of Charlotte and Greenville. His admittance back into employment gave us access once again to blood samples, and the slow and gradual integration of Rosalie back into human civilization. Although strong in mind, the whole process had not been without its setbacks. An overzealous poacher, who had strayed far from the designated hunting spots, had become a slip on her record.

His death had only pushed her to pursue her integration with renewed vigour, and her determination had come back stronger. To date she had successfully walked through town, and visited the grocers. For a vampire of only two years, it was an achievement to be proud of.

Moving to North Carolina had been well received by all; the house was large, spacious enough for all five of us to dwell in with luxury. We had running water, electricity and even a connection to the telecommunications lines; even if they were a little dodgy. The property, although part of Waynesville town, was nestled comfortably into the Great Smokey Mountains National Forest. Its sheer expanse meant hunting was surely unrivalled by any destination I had ever visted before. Indeed everyone was happy with these new living arrangements, even the likes of the ever demanded Tanya.

Before we had left for our new home, the Denali's had come for a visit. Including their ever evasive runaway members, having been re-accosted by Tanya and Kate. Not a pair to get on the wrong side of.

Tanya, clearly still out for blood, decided to take on Rosalie. The first couple of days of their stay were fraught with some savage exchanges, but after eventually telling Tanya the two of us were getting on better, relations lightened up a little. There was still no hope for Laurent and Edward; the two were perturbed by each other. Edward said his constantly shifting thoughts and deliberate attempts to accost his mind reading, was a sure sign of his wavering loyalties.

After mentioning this to Tanya and Kate, the Denali's were quick to depart. Laurent could be more closely monitored and confined within their own territory, if he should attempt to hunt humans it would be easier to condone with the wilderness of Alaska. With Kate's shaggy and rather capable looking mate breathing down his neck, Laurent was sensible in departing with no trouble. The length of the short visit and its purveyance with awkward relations made it a difficult one. And so my beloved blonde friend from Alaska had decided that we were to make the journey north, once Rosalie's hunger was under control. A plan I wasn't sure everyone was quite aware of.

"Why is there smoke coming from the Packard?" Came Edward's question.

I placed my boots into the wooden pigeon holes, crossing the white and black marble checked floor to find him in the first reception room. Taking up the entirety of the coffee table, the floor, and piled high on the chairs, spread the entirety of his record collection. There must have been a hundred at least, taking up every available space in the room, apart from the spot on the sofa he was occupying. Having been in storage while we were living in the small house, they had not seen the light of day in an age. The disorder of the piles made them uncomfortable to look at, so I made no attempt to venture any further than the threshold.

"There was a motorcar related issue that occurred on the highway." I lied, remembering the question that still hung in the air. Resisting the urge to play with the ends of my hair; an apparent tell-tale sign that I was lying.

"An issue?" He replied slowly, the left corner of his lips twitching at my uninvolved hands.

"Yes, one in four Americans experience car related issues every day." I responded, tattling off a statistic I had read in an insurance leaflet.

"So almost getting caught by the highway patrol for going twice over the speed limit has nothing to do with it." He smirked knowingly.

"No?" I fumbled with a surprised lilt to my voice.

"You are a terrible liar." He announced.

"No, I'm a good liar; I just can't lie successfully when you already know the truth. And you shouldn't be listening to Rosalie's thoughts went we're having a private conversation." I retorted, wincing at my own terribly weak argument.

He only smiled wider. "But love, it wasn't Rosalie. I'm afraid it was your loud attempts to shush the truth that gave you away."

"Excellent." I announced with a childish pout. "My ability for stealth impresses even me sometimes. I'm going to find Esme before I let out any other sordid secrets."

"Sordid secrets, eh?" He suggested with a baritone tenor.

"Why am I not remotely surprised that's the only thing you caught from that?" I pondered, narrowing my eyes in his direction.

"I don't have a respectable answer to that." He said.

"I would love to come over and gratify that remark with action, but you seem far too busy-" I gazed in determination at the piles. "Alphabetizing by genre. So I'll go see if Esme needs a hand."

His growl of frustration only made the situation more humorous. I would undoubtedly pay for that later.

Leaving Edward to his compulsive ordering, I sort out Esme within the labyrinth that was this house. Traveling along the long corridors and up the servant's stair case. The house was archaic of Victorian gothica, far from current architectural fashion and unique enough to induce us to buy. The human family before had been victims of the economic depression; even the likes of a railroad executive was not immune to money troubles that followed a stock crash.

Unlike its farmhouse neighbours, with their timber frames and cladding, our house was stone built. Dark grey rock quarried from the excavation of the railways, and black slate imported from the Vermont quarries. The masonry was truly stunning, further enhanced by the great glass sun house that backed onto the wild gardens.

But it was a definite on-going renovation. The interior of the house had been stripped to bare plaster and floor boards, everything of value having been sold by the last owners. So far only the three inhabited bedrooms, the two reception rooms, and Carlisle's study had been finished. Yet Esme's designs and skill were exquisite, her taste for modernism incorporated the beauty of traditional and vintage styles.

For the past couple of days, her project had been starting the first of several guest rooms on the first floor. Ready for any unexpected drop ins from extended family, or should we pick up another straggler along the way.

I found my next verbal victim on the east side of the house, working away most diligently on her decorating. The room resembled something akin a bomb site, the sheer amount of debris strewn about the floor was immense. In the middle of it all, and the one responsible for the mess, was Esme. Wearing her designated painting clothes, and resembling a force to be reckoned with as she tore down a stud wall.

"I thought you were going to keep that wall?" I questioned, stepping over the small mountain of plaster board.

"I was." She replied, tearing down another chunk with her bare hands; the sledge hammer sitting off to one side. "But l got a little curious when I found the wall was hollow, and low and behold just look at this fireplace."

"Pretty." I admired, cautious of my step as I navigated the piles of debris. "Wonder why it was boarded it up?"

She brushed her hand over the dusty hearth tiles, revealing them to be a most vivid colour. "Your guess is as good as mine, but it's such a shame they did. Just imagine how splendid it will look."

"Is it too late to request a change of room?" I joked.

"I mused the very same thing." Esme smiled.

"We could make it into a library." I suggested. "Lord knows how many books we have in storage, and between you and I, Edward could use a place to store some of his records.'

"Oh, I like that idea very much." She said. "The room height is perfect for those beautifully large cases, the ones with the sliding ladders."

"With furniture as incredible as that, I may decide to dwell solely in here." I announced.

"Then may I commandeer your hand a moment?" She questioned.

"Please do." I responded, crouching down beside her to brace my hand against the newly exposed tiles, as she removed the last of the board from the hearth grill. In sooty clumps it broke away, filling the air with a mirage of black particles. The main burning grill, all the way up to the chimney gap, was completely blocked by a great mass of materials. Bricks, fabric, paper, all wadded within the small fireplace to block up its function completely.

We moved the floor tarpaulin to catch the mass of material, as we pulled the blockage down. Luckily other than several small bird skeletons and a pair of old leather shoes, there was nothing grisly or macabre within the gap. From the pile we removed all the bricks, stacking them neatly to one side. Before within the realms of curiosity we straightened out the mass of documents and yellowing newspapers.

"Looks like a quote...a quote for the conservatory building work." I announced, holding the charred document between my fingers.

"These newspapers are from nineteen eleven and twelve." Esme said, flattening the scrunched up tabloid. "Norwegian Antarctic Expedition, New Mexico the forty seventh state, the Olympic Games. " Reading the visible headlines aloud. "How sad, this one is reporting on the Titanic disaster."

"Really?" I questioned rhetorically, kneeling to her side to scrutinize one of the papers. "That is a real piece of history."

One by one we picked through the mess of newspapers, building up almost seven months' worth of issues. Most ranging from November nineteen eleven all the way through till late June nineteen twelve, there were also even a couple of earlier articles. Due to the specialised interest of the issues, we could only come to the conclusion they must have been part of a collection. Perhaps sacrificed to board up the fireplace; it was not uncommon for people to decommission unused rooms within times of hardship. It was uneconomical to leave them to collect dust, and essential heat could not be wasted through an unmaintained fireplace.

"I remember reading about the Titanic in the Columbus Dispatch" Esme stated, shifting through the grainy images and tragic headlines. "I became adamant I would never set foot on any kind of ship after that."

"It's kind of harrowing that other than the trials no one speaks of it anymore." I replied, tracing the illustration of the ship meeting its watery end. "I always found that rather sad."

"Perhaps it is still too soon for people to converse about." She mused. "Too raw."

"I don't think that is something one can recover from." I replied. "Can you imagine being the witness to something so horrific? Surviving when so many perished, how can your mind even begin to process such a thing?"

"I don't suppose acceptance is something that could ever be sort after such carnage." She replied softly. "Maybe over time people can begin to seek some kind of reconciliation."

"Maybe." I nodded, passing the paper back to her.

"I shall keep these; it would be an awful shame for them to be lost again." She decided.

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><p><em>AN: Oh I kind of feel like Esme's making a premonition towards the future. And if all goes well; and the chapter write's itself the way I want, I'm hoping to have Emmett within the next chapter. _

_Thanks for reading. _


	53. Chapter Fifty Two: Ursus Impetum

_A/N: How excited I was to start this chapter; I had my ending in mind and just needed the fill in the gaps. Luckily the chapter developed in the way I wanted, and I got my ending. Thanks to everyone once again for reviewing, alerting or favouring the story. Your reviews are always so welcome, and I absolutely love reading them. A quick note I will make to address everyone's query over Bella's past, she will definitely find out eventually. I have finally written down a plan that integrates itself within the plot (a plan which I am rather evilly going to keep a secret.) But rest assure it is going to happen._

_shigui: Thanks for the review, and I have no desire to stop writing and shall continue until this story is complete._

_Bookwormac: Indeed I can finally say he is coming, officially within the chapter. With the subtle collections of newspapers and books, they are unknowingly accumulating a lot of information regarding the Titanic. It's all so close, she just doesn't know it. Thanks for the review._

_Sheeijan: I think we can call it dramatic irony, although the characters of the story do not see the irony, the audience does. And when Bella's finds out about her past, the details of what happened to her mother will be revealed. Thanks for the review._

_celebritystar: Definitely, it is far too interesting and tragic to leave forgotten. Thank you for reviewing._

_BadassEri90: Finally we have reached the beginnings of Emmett's story. And sounds like you're getting on with technology as well as I do, sometimes more of a hassle than anything. With my plan for Bella's past now written down into the plot, I promise the patience will pay off. Thanks for the long review, love reading them._

_Len Stormcrow: I felt we were missing on a little Esme, Bella interaction. It's nice to write about two females who have such a nice relationship. Although saying that, Rosalie and Bella are on much better terms, I feel Rose has found an ally, and do I dare say a friend? Thank you for your review._

_Viola1701e: Before you wonder how my random fireplace story came about, a very similar experience happened when we renovated my house. We took down the stud wall and found an old hearth; although nothing as beautiful as the one in the story. Boarding up is a cheaper alternative to restoring an old fireplace. We found so much brick debris within the cavity, and even newspapers; although nothing terribly exciting, just classified ads. So glad you liked the more agreeable Rosalie, she seems to be a very sharp minded character, and has the tongue to match. Thanks for reviewing once again._

_MissMartha: They are my favourite couple to write, a bit of banter to lighten up any situation. Thank you for reviewing._

_Areej.A.A: Not quite yet on the memory front, but I will try super hard to shorten Emmett's change. It definitely won't be as long as Rosalie's, but there will be some things I need to include. So maybe half a chapter. Thanks for the review._

_Sarah.A.A: I have finally decided upon a plan of action regarding Bella's past, so that has just begun in its execution. Indeed Rosalie is much more agreeable, she has finally integrated herself within the family and built relationships with everyone. Of course things are about to change, and finally Emmett is about to join the family. Thanks for another review._

_CullenBoy123: I'm a sucker for my history, could not resist just adding that link between the chapters. And I am happy to report; Emmett will definitely feature within this very chapter. Thank you for your review._

_Disaclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Fifty Two: Ursus Impetum<span>

March 14th 1935

Through a disgustingly dingy little window; where one pane had been replaced by cardboard and masking tape, I watched three members of my family traipse off towards the mountains of car parts. Moving past the great stacks of broken washers and dryers, not sparing a glance towards metal piping or cables. I applauded their apparent ignorance to the air, everything smelt of dirt, oil and gasoline. Even the two men behind the broken counter, seem to be infused with filth.

Esme and I had volunteered to stay within the shamble of a shack, keeping the two owners from venturing out and providing overly helpful assistance. It really was in their best interest to stay inside, away from the newly emancipated vampire.

I'd give credit where it was due; the two ageing owners of this particular establishment were well educated in their manners. Seats and hot drinks had been offered, there had been no uncomfortable leering and small talk was minimal but interesting.

While Esme sat glossing through an auction catalogue, I tried my hand at self-entertainment. Ambling around the little building looking at the mirage of framed photographs and newspaper clippings. Through the usual history that companies liked to advertise; articles from the first opening, archaic sales and famous customers, there were more interesting things displayed on the wall. Documented in yellowing photographs were several record big game hunts, men standing astride monstrous black bear corpses. Guns slung on their shoulder and looking proudly over their trophy.

"Four hundred and thirty two pounds." Sated one of the gentlemen behind the counter. "Biggest catch ever recorded this far south of the Smokies."

"That is one big animal." I nodded appreciatively.

"Took five members of my family to take him down, and he put up one hell of a fight. Tore right through my uncle's arm." He gestured claws across his forearm. "Lucky to survive."

"That is incredible." I replied. "Ever come close to one that size?"

He chuckled with a nod, beckoning me forward to the desk. I came over with my curiosity, watching as he returned from the back with a large leather bound book in hand. "This, my dear, is our hunting records." He flicked through the pages, intent on showing me something he regarded as important. The elegant scripted handwriting on the pages further went on to show these men were far from their measly work dwellings. "Since I took up the sport myself, I've come relatively close. A three fifty, even a four hundred once."

"It was three ninety at best." Piped up the second man.

"Pish, he's just jealous. Ain't had nothing bigger than a three forty." Retorted the man with the book. "But three years in a row, we've come close to a big'un. I recon he's a four fifty, a monster of a boar. Clever one, though, managed to give us the slip several times now. But just you wait Miss, come back in a couple weeks and just you see. We'll get him this time."

"Seasons begun?" I asked ignorantly.

"Indeed, officially began yesterday. And by tomorrow we'll be up in the national parks, starting ourselves." He rubbed his calloused hands together in glee. "Your family much for hunting?"

"Oh we like to dabble." I replied innocently, biting the inside of my cheek to stop the smile. "Nothing big. Mainly deer. But perhaps next year we could look into taking down something larger, I've always liked a challenge."

"Then I shall impart some family wisdom upon you." He looked around conspicuously, narrowing his eyes as if there were a sleuth in the room. "Put your bait out near a beaver den, black bears love beaver."

"Interesting." I acknowledged. "I would never have thought of such a thing."

"That's the knowledge of five generations worth of hunters. That many people can't be wrong."

The hand crank telephone suddenly came to life in a course of brazen rings, when the other gentleman made no motion to answer it, bear man excused himself. With the ledger open on the desk; and hoping he would not mind if I took a look, I began scanning the scripted pages. Reading the notes of a proficient human tracker and hunter, they noted everything from different types of bait, ideal weeks to venture into the wilderness, and lucky for me they also detailed the locations of successful hunts. Places we could actively avoid in the upcoming months.

On his way back from taking a call from the local municipal impound lot; regarding the crushing of several unclaimed cars, I forgo my reading and pretended to simply look at the photographs. It was not long after we were joined by Carlisle, having found the items they were looking for, it simply came down to agreeing a price and the delivery date.

"Good luck on your hunt." I told the man, shaking his hand through the leather of my gloves.

"Indeed I will." He affirmed. "You be sure to stop by and see it, I plan to have it stuffed and placed in the corner."

"I'll be sure to do that." I smiled. "Perhaps I shall be seeing your photograph in the paper."

"I best make sure to look presentable then." Chuckled his reply.

After polite goodbyes, the five of us crammed back into the Cadillac. With the Packard still out of commission, we had been forced to resort to just the one motorcar. I sat rather awkwardly between Esme and Rosalie on the back bench, trying to remain in my seat as we drove along bends in the road.

"It seems you have found a firm friend in that gentleman." Carlisle said, catching my eye in the rear view mirror.

"It's not often I find a human I can tolerate, but he was humble in manners and a good conversationist. Not to mention insightful with bear hunting tips, I feel I shall be lucky this season. Could catch myself a four hundred pound boar."

"You find the most bazar things to talk about." Rosalie announced, giving me a strange look.

"Do I dare ask you to divulge this tip with us?" Carlisle asked with a half smile.

"Now that's asking." I smirked. "It wasn't something he even wanted Esme to hear. But seeing as she does, and now so does Edward." He shrugged his shoulders in response. "I guess it will be alright to tell. Apparently if I wish to catch myself a record breaking black bear, I must set up my bait near a beaver den."

"Interesting." Carlisle mused aloud.

"Is that what you were reading about in the ledger?" Esme questioned, folding her gloves into her coat pocket.

"Yes, it was full of old hunting records. Photographs, paper clippings, and such. "

"Anything of valuable interest?"

"Indeed, there were quite a few notes on popular hunting destinations. Sevier and the south of Cocke seem to be the most popular regions. The ledger also said the area around Clingman's Dome is too impassable to venture, there was a landslip and the tracks were buried under the earth." I addressed all.

"So an ideal place for us to venture." Carlisle summed.

"Seems to be that way." I nodded. "Avoid going north, the area from Waynesville all the way up to Newport seems to be popular with hunters."

"It's not like we don't have anywhere else to hunt." Rosalie interjected. "Isn't the whole area primarily national parks?"

"Yes." I acknowledged. "But there are quite a few hunting towns if you head south west, you'd have to take care."

"West it is then." She declared.

* * *

><p>"You're meant to be helping."<p>

"I'm supervising." I declared. Watching him paint the duck egg blue onto the walls, as I sat curled up on the covered chaise long. "Plus you're doing a great job, keep up the good work." I pretended to flick through the Vogue magazine in my lap, but the view I had of him working away was far too engrossing. We had offered to paint the room while Esme and Rosalie went to hunt, but seeing how my nails were freshly painted pink , scuffing them would be an unneeded annoyance.

"I feel like I should be charging for your entertainment." He said, clearly sensing my gaze.

My peep show related resort became repressed as I sensed Carlisle's footsteps approaching from down the hall, lingering along as he shuffled papers in his hands.

"Do you both have a moment?" He questioned, not looking up from his sorting.

I ignored Edward's scoff. "Of course, what do you need?"

"Just your signatures on these bank letters." He replied, passing over the offending items and a pen.

"Is this the last of the money?" I pestered, decorating the designated line with my elaborate mark.

"Yes, everything had been transferred to the bank in Asheville. Then the seventy five percent you wanted will be put into the offshore accounts. It may be worth going ahead and splitting the money into several accounts, maybe even taking up safety deposit boxes."

"Seems like a good idea." Edward interjected, putting down his paintbrush to sign the document I was currently brandishing at him.

"I was also thinking of placing some money in a separate account for Rosalie." He declared, vying for our reply. "

"What do you need? A new birth certificate, passport?" I inquired, toying with the ends of my hair.

"I think her current birth certificate should be fine, but a passport is a definite." Came his reply, collecting together the signed and completed papers.

"I'll pen a note to Jenks then." I affirmed. "Is there anything else we need? I know Eleazar was keen to invest in birth certificates."

"Several blank issues in the attic." Edward declared to Carlisle's unvoiced question.

"Then I think we will be fine for the time being, our personal documents are still within believable standing. And we have the blanks, just in case." Said Carlisle.

I nodded in agreement, mentally picturing the combination safe full of illegally purveyed papers. "After this next batch of documents I request from Jenks, I think pulling back from his services are a must. We should put some distance between the transactions, just as a safety precaution. I can't be as threatening from twenty five hundred miles away."

"Indeed a very sensible idea, it should allow us time to delete our paper trail. I was also musing over the idea of selling the house in Rochester; of course I'll request everyone's views-" he did not need to speak Rosalie's name for me to gather it was her reply that matter most. "But what are your thoughts?"

"It makes no difference to me." Came Edward's diplomatic response.

"I'm fine with that." I tagged on.

"Excellent, if all is well we can get a relatively fast turnaround on the market." He said with an affirmed nod.

"Hoping to take advantage of the economy spike." Edward concluded, returning to his painting duty before Esme returned.

"Indeed, although if it's anything like the last, not likely to stick around."

As much as I loved debating the rise and fall of the economy, I was assured that within that moment my senses were betraying me. Perhaps, I mused, it was the smell of the solvent in the paint obscuring my nose. But faintly, oh so faint, I could smell something pleasant.

"I think I can smell human blood." I interjected airily into the conversation, my processing skills finally making a successful link. I could hear the accompanying palpation of a heartbeat, growing ever louder as it swiftly approached. Everything within the room became deathly quiet; I could only close my eyes in wonder at this strange unfolding situation. But even with my honed senses, the smell of blood came ever stronger, sending shivers of fire burning down my throat. I fought the tensing muscles, stopping all lung functions, and swallowed the accumulating venom.

My simple sentence at first was unresponsive by my two companions in the room; they took a breath over the paint fumes and shared a look of alarm. It was only when the distant running of footfalls and the sound of a sluggish human heart beat became louder that the room exploded into action.

"Stay here." Carlisle ordered, slamming the door behind him in an attempt to put a physical barrier between us and the human. Edward was instantaneously at my side, clasping my hand tightly.

"What's going on?" I pressed shakily, straining to hear through the commotion downstairs. Through the noise I could just make out Rosalie's voice over the sound of pumping blood, scuffing footsteps on the checked floor, and Carlisle' murmurs. "Has she slipped again?"

"No...I don't think so." He replied. Brows furrowed, as he attempted to unravel the situation down stairs through the thoughts of its occupants. "I think… I think he was mauled by a bear."

"A bear?" I repeated slowly.

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><p><em>AN: I'm so excited to get this chapter out, and along with it the introduction of a new character into the family. Thanks for reading. _


	54. Chapter Fifty Three: Ursus Vir

_A/N: My five hundred or so words a day has gone completely out the window this week, I originally had two whole days off, that was until work decided that was two days too many and called me in. So I have been writing this in hundred word blocks whenever I get a free moment. But onto much more exciting news, we have passed the two hundred and fifty review mark! So a huge thanks to everyone who takes the time to review, and to those who have alerted or favoured the story. _

_shigui: Thanks very much for your kind review, hope you enjoy the chapter._

_demilovato4eva: Don't worry, I know how demanding school can be, always vying for every bit of your spare time. Thanks for taking the time to read and review._

_Retired25: Thanks for the review, happy to know you enjoyed the suspense, and I hope it's not too long winded. _

_Sarah.A.A: Not annoying at all! I love reading your reviews. Although it wasn't Emmett at the junk yard, after rereading the chapter I liked the idea of them being a relation. Perhaps an Uncle, or other family member. They may get a mention again. Thanks for the review._

_Sheeijan: I'm happy to be writing Emmett's story, and although I never thought to make the men at the junk yard any relation to him, I really do like the idea, just kind of adds to the coincidental irony. I completely agree about Rosalie carrying him across that distance, it's a wonder how much strength and control it took, and a shame that as a character she isn't recognized for it. Thanks for the review._

_CullenBoy123: He really does seem to be everyone's favourite character, not that I can blame anyone, who doesn't love his easy outlook on immortality. Thank you for your review._

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thanks for reviewing. Glad to know you're still enjoying, that's always my mission. _

_MissMartha: As the owner of a car which is made of more odd parts than original, I based the one older gentleman on the owner of a reclamation yard in my home town. The man is completely obsessed with fishing, and tends to do that manly over exaggeration when it comes to describing his catches. Undoubtedly they are some of the friendliest people. Thank you for your review._

_viola1701e: I'm so happy to have Emmett within the story, if not for Rosalie, then as our comic relief. But poor Esme and her antique, perfectly decorated houses. She may have to start hiding away the breakables. Thanks for the review._

_Holidai: Indeed Emmett has arrived, but even with Edward and Bella already together, I'm sure he will find something else to mock his 'brother' over. As for Rosalie, being the witness to the strains of a vampire change on the family, will hopefully give her an insight into being grateful. Thank you for reviewing. _

_celebritystar: Thanks for reviewing. We're sure to have a few of Rosalie's thoughts over the matter. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Fifty Three: Ursus Vir<span>

March 16th 1935

The kitchen really did have the most spectacular view of the lawn. Sprawling onwards until it met the stunningly manicured flower beds, then onwards to the thickets and woodlands. It was a beautiful day, sunlight streamed between the shadows of the soft white clouds that billowed silently overhead. The rays of uninhibited light made the garden glow with a strange ethereal quality; I could only imagine how perfect the day would have been for a swim.

From my vantage point at the faucet, I spied another figure making the most of the excellent weather. Although hardly admiring the shimmery garden, her thoughts were undoubtedly in another place. From the initial moment she had brought the victim back to the house, and obtained Carlisle's promise to save the man, Rosalie had been unnaturally quiet. With the wellbeing of the hulking male at the forefront of our mind, she had been somewhat neglected.

It was not something anyone was to be blamed for; at the moment in time she was not the main focus of our attentions. The thrashing and moaning male, currently over half way through a change, took up the attentive nature of our deliberations.

And what a sight he made. Flesh cut to ribbons by the claws of a bear, blood pooling through his clothes and onto the floor. Everyone bar Carlisle, have been sent to hunt. To consume enough blood to stem our desires. As time went by it got progressively easier, venom polluting the scent, knitting together the slashes on his body.

It was that very blood coagulating into the carpet, that I decided to clean. In the Belfast I had managed to fill an unused ceramic wash jug with cold water, its matching basin ready with strips of rag and a paper bag of rock salt.

With everything stacked precariously, I started at the first point of blood splatter, trails of crimson up the central mauve carpet on the stairs. The marble floors having already been mopped with bleach by Esme earlier on. I poured the cold water from the jug into the bowl, dipping the first of the rags in, along with a little detergent. Onto the splatters I poured a little of the salt, before vigorously blotting each little stain with a rag.

I had become strangely proficient at removing blood stains.

It did not heed my attention that from this point in the house, the noise of the male's restless state was heightened by the hard floors and tall ceilings. We had been unsure to his period of change; such a large quantity of blood loss had to be weighed against the male's size. He was a big man, not fat, but tall and stocky. The muscles of a male who had seen hard labour, therefore predicting a passage of time was as good as an estimation.

But two days later and he was beginning to display all the signs of final advancement, his skin had become a pale sheen, all wounds had now healed, and his heart was beginning to flutter irregularly.

Closer to the noise I travelled, cleaning each individual step and washing away the stubborn blood that had become entangled within the fibres. My success was tangible, until I came onto the landing. The male had convulsed violently as he was carried, further opening one of his chest wounds, and pouring a great onslaught of red onto the rug. There was far too much to save the antique Persian, it was rolled up and added to the burn pile. My last job came in the form of the carpet within the spare room, but from the continuation of rapidly falling blood in the hall, the cream textile was saturated. It had been doused in ethanol to mask the pungent smell, but the stain had spread and imbedded itself. The changing man had been moved to one of the larger rooms, allowing for extra space once he awakened. But leaving a mess behind.

I tipped away the bloody water in the kitchen sink, cleaning the porcelain vigorously with copious amounts of scented chemicals.

"He's definitely approaching the end." Carlisle announced, departing from his study to take a seat at the kitchen table.

"I honestly thought it would have come along much quicker, considering the blood loss." I replied, stowing the ceramic bowl and jug back under the sink.

"Perhaps the extent of his injuries affected the progression." He said. "It is a miracle that he managed to survive the journey back to the house."

"A certain _jou de vive_ is needed to merely want to survive, let us hope he is open minded." I said, discarding the soiled rags with a wrinkle of the nose. "You managed to contact the hospital?"

"While I do not confess myself a fan of the telephone, in this instant it came in most useful. They have been notified it is a family emergency." Carlisle replied, clasping his hands together atop the table.

"It's convenient, I'll admit that. But I dislike not being able to see people's faces when I'm directly speaking to them. I find it awkward." I announced, aimlessly wiping down the marble counters and around the faucet.

"As much as we decree to dislike the thing, I dare say it's become increasingly popular. Almost every new house built is being directly connected to the communications grid." He responded, shifting through a mass of newspapers to find today's.

"Perhaps I am unsociable in saying so." I began. "But I have an aversion to the fact people can contact us so easily. I don't like answering the telephone to be told by an operator someone is attempting to call, especially if it's someone I'm not expecting."

"Times are changing." Came his worldly reply.

I came to agree, but the man upstairs decided to release a particularly loud moan of protest, reminding us there were pressing matters at hand.

"Have you spoken at all to Rosalie?" Carlisle asked.

"No, Esme tried before her hunt, but it seems she is reluctant to talk about it." I replied quietly. "Edward says her thoughts are quite turbulent, she keeps going over what happened."

"She has yet to look in on him." Carlisle added. "I do not wish to come to an unwelcome conclusion, but those are the usual signs of someone who has taken to pushing the blame upon themselves."

"Guilt. Which is preposterous, he was already at death's door. Is this not a better alternative than death?" I questioned rhetorically. "She knows me well enough to realise I have no qualms about prying when I am curious. I'll swap my chore with you; volunteer myself for the challenge of speaking to her."

"What's this chore, before I agree?"

"Nothing strenuous." I assured to his comical frown. "The blood stain on the spare room carpet will not be removed; therefore it's probably best to just cut it out." I handed him one of the kitchen knives. "There is a pile of things to be burnt out on the gravel; Edward said he will bring back some dry kindling for the fire."

"You've got everything under control, haven't you?" He said with a kind smile, taking the offered knife.

"It's the least I can do." I replied quietly, feeling quite abashed in my sentiments.

"You know I am forever thankful for your unwavering support, especially when things have been difficult. I shall therefore leave Rosalie to your capable hands, and be on with my chore." He departed the room with enough grace to make one weep.

I could only fight the ache in my cheeks, where I was sure a blush would have once settled. How nice it was to hear such kind words regarding ones character, especially from someone you respected as much. I removed the linen apron from around my waist, and with renewed vigour to my person sort out the family member who had taken a dent to theirs.

Through the house I traipsed, passing from the master's side of the house to the servant's quarters, and then towards the formal dining rooms and the great glass house; most of which were still under renovation.

The large sun house was not an original feature from the first phase of the building, instead a later addition from the previous tenants. But what style they had, to add such a grand extension. A room where one could sit and read, surrounded by nature, but not bothered by the forever changing elements. It was no great surprise that Rosalie had taken to hiding within such a room, the numerous indoor plants swaying next to the double doors, made the whole place so very tranquil.

I made my footsteps deliberately noticeable, scuffing the bare soles of my feet loudly against the slate.

"Such a nice day." I mused airily, moving past her seat to stand at the open doors. "Perfect weather for a swim."

"You know I dislike such a thing." She scoffed.

"That's because you have no experienced to the joys of clear water swimming, wait till we go to Alaska. Ice cold and cryst-"

"Let's cut the small talk shall we." She interrupted bluntly. "What do you want to know? You want to know why I did it. You want to know what could possibly possess me to jeopardise the family in such a way. What do you want to know, Isabella?"

"First, I want to know why you're brooding like a fractious child." I replied, cutting straight down to the nitty gritty of our honest relationship.

"I'm not brooding." She bit.

"Could have fooled me." I stated. "And I have got this strange inclination that there's some kind of guilt running through your mind?"

"Did Edward tell you that?" Came her quick snark.

"He didn't need to. You've being doing an excellent job of impersonating a hermit, doesn't take a genius to realise something's not right. And you know I'm not one to tip toe around niceties, we've been through too much for that crap."

She cast her topaz eyes to the ground, letting out a ragged sigh. "I don't know what happened, or why I had to." She whispered quietly. "He just looked so much like little Henry...the dimples in his cheeks, the curls of his hair."

I didn't pry into who little Henry was. But attempted instead to impart a little sentimental comfort, sitting down next to her to create level eye lines.

"I couldn't leave him there." She declared, wringing her hands. "I can't explain why. I just wanted to save him."

"You don't have to explain it to me." I replied. "I've seen it happen before, twice now in fact, I've witnessed such a thing. Both yourself and Esme have been examples of that."

She thought for a moment, eyes locking on the fabric of her skirt. Before asking "Why?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "I have seen many a change fuelled solely on a need for disposable forces, and few based on compassion. Maybe it is an example of humility or perhaps a desire for others to be given a second chance."

"A second chance." She repeated. "Do you think he will see it that way?"

"Honestly, if he has half a brain he should do. And he will be thankful to you for giving him that chance."

"If he doesn't?" She pressed.

"Tough. You can't change what's happened." I tried. "It may be a pain to hear, but until he awakens we can't speculate on his character. We're just going to have to wait."

"I hate waiting." She sighed, playing idly with the ends of her hair.

"Why don't you go look in on him?" I questioned. "He's progressing nicely, quite a handsome man now he has been cleaned up. The venom has done its job well."

"How long? Before it ends, I mean." She asked, seemingly ignoring my prompt.

"Not long. His heart is already fluttering, that is usually what happens before the violent palpations, and then it will stop beating altogether. I'd say a couple of hours."

She nodded her head in acknowledgement, but thusly made no attempts to move.

"I'm going to go sort out some clothes for him, we can go into town when the weathers better and purchase some things." I replied off handily, taking to the floor with a lingering walk.

"I don't mind helping." She said quietly.

"Alright, I'm sure we can find something." I said, hiding my smile well beneath the plan. Her pride would not allow her to ask for aid, but that did not mean a little push in the right direction couldn't be successful.

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><p>At quarter to four in the late afternoon, the mauled human began progressing into the final phase of his change. The fluttering of his heart turned into the uncontrollable rapid palpations, forcing his lungs into hyperventilation. Quickly we were coerced into action, Rosalie and Esme went to scout out the immediate area; the former volunteering all too readily.<p>

Much to Edward chagrin, I was to stay behind, an extra set of hands to keep the large male under control should he act out. The three of us then strategically positioned ourselves within the rather empty room, keeping the door wide open and careful not to crowd around the man. I stood a little way back from the others, pressed firmly against the bare wall and ready to implement myself.

"He can feel its decline." Edward whispered, corresponding perfectly with several irregular beats.

But we didn't require his mind reading ability to identify the sound of a struggling heart, several times within the space of half a minute the muscle faltered in its function. Then with little warning it stopped silent.

Ten seconds turned into twenty, then into thirty, forty. We waited poised and on edge, flexing our hands in nervous preparation.

It happened too quickly. He inhaled a great breath of unneeded air, sitting up all too fast and sending himself to the floor. Smashing not only the wrought iron bed frame, but the bedside cabinet.

The very first word uttered from his mouth came in the form of a confused. "Shit?"

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><p><em>AN: Oh how I hate leaving it on such a cliff end, but it seemed like a good and natural place to stop. I say it every time but thanks for reading. _


	55. Chapter Fifty Four: Resurrectio

_A/N: This was definitely not an easy chapter to get out; I had a sudden bout of inspiration for a future chapter and ended up writing it before I had even started this one. But after procrastinating over my Uni work, I eventually sat down and begun this chapter. Helped immensely by the reviews; twelve from the last! So thanks for reviewing, alerting, favouring, and hello to all those who have joined._

_Bookwormac: Never annoying, I love hearing that people enjoy Emmett as much as I do. And it's nice to know you liked the ending, I wanted to introduce him with his usual roguish behaviour. So thanks for the review._

_demilovato4eva: Thanks for reviewing. His awakening could never be as mundane as most, breaking something and swearing seemed the way to go._

_Retired25: Thank you so much for such a kind review! I'm glad it seems that way, sometimes I feel a little mean leaving chapters with such cliff hangers._

_Matthias Stormcrow: Always nice to hear you enjoyed the chapter, thanks for taking the time to review._

_lifehatesme: Glad to hear! You have succeeded in making me blush with such nice comments. Thank you so much for the review._

_MissMartha: His simple ways are sure to charm, a refreshing character compared to that of the seeming complexity of the others. We just love his boyish personality. Thanks for reviewing._

_Xxvicky2freshxX: He's finally here! Awake, ready to cause trouble with his dimples. Thank you for your review._

_Areej-A-A: Don't worry, I know how temperamental the Internet can be, and as for remembering things, I have a memory like a sieve. I have a good feeling about Emmett and Bella; I think they will turn out to be quite a dynamic duo. And I did feel a little mean about the cliffy, but it seemed like a good place to end. Sorry! Thanks for the review._

_Sarah-A-A: Oh you poor thing, having to study for that long, how did you survive?! I don't have the patience for such a thing. Happy to know I was able to give you a little respite from it all. Having a new teacher is so annoying, especially when you're used to the teaching of the old one. I hope it all went alright and you get the result you want. Thanks for reading and reviewing._

_Sheeijan: Both Esme and Bella better start hiding their breakables, for their own sanity and for Emmett's own good. Let's just hope his charm and dimples can get him out of trouble. Originally I did have Rosalie within the room, but that would have meant a lot of people within a confined space with a newborn. Seeing as I'm sure she would have been nervous to his reaction; considering the way she responded to her own, I decided to have them meet outside. Thanks for the review._

_viola1701e: I was all set to have it end when he's notified of his new vampiric nature, but as I typed the word shit, it just seemed like a naturally good ending. Definitely signalling his arrival and destructive energy. Thanks for the review._

_Holidai: Thanks for the review. So happy that you liked my variation on the change, it was a difficult chapter to write as I know how much everyone loves Emmett. He's a very popular character._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

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><p>Chapter Fifty Four: Resurrectio<p>

We awkwardly watched him pick himself up, frantically patting his torso in alarm. "I'm dead." He announced to himself. "I died. Bear got me."

"Excuse me." Carlisle tried quietly.

His ruby red eyes finally landed on the other inhabitants in the room, widening slightly to our image. "Am I dead?" He questioned bluntly.

I could almost see Carlisle's lip twitch, whether it be in humour or disbelieve. He was very calm for a newborn, strangely so in fact. "No." Was the answer finally given. "You are very much alive, Mr?"

"Emmett. That's my name." He announced, nodding his head in reassurance. "Emmett McCarty."

"It's nice to make your acquaintance, Emmett." Came Carlisle's reply, careful not to make any movements towards the man. "I'm Carlisle, this is Edward and Isabella."

I nodded in acknowledgement when his gaze swept over me; his observance lingered on our pale skin and unnatural eyes. He seemed to be even taller now, a couple of inches on his previous height. But I did note how the original unevenness to his muscular structure had evened, his proportions were far better suited to his new frame.

"Emmett, can you remember what happened?" Carlisle questioned carefully.

He scrunched up his nose and wrinkled his forehead, in what I recognised as a terribly human action. "The bear...it attacked me. I was trying to shoot it, and it attacked. I thought it got me...but I don't have any injuries. Did I dream the whole thing? Cuz sometimes when I go out drinking, I dream some strange things. And I do have a burn in my throat, was I drinking?"

"Emmett, I want you to listen carefully. The attack, it was very much real. Another member of the family found you in the woods and was able to bring you back to the house. We managed to save you. However things are a little different."

"Different?" He questioned, sweeping his gaze once again over Edward and I.

"Yes." Carlisle nodded. "Consider the tone of your skin, you will find it is much paler than before."

He did as asked, looking intently at the pale hues of his marble skin. "It's the same colour as yours, are we sick? Is this some kind of hospital?"

"No. The pallor of your skin and the changes to your being are the result of venom." Carlisle explained.

"I got bit by a snake?" Jumped the conclusion.

"Not quite. You've been affected by vampire venom, and subsequently have turned."

We were not sure what to expect, perhaps like Rosalie he would grow angry and vehemently deny the whole thing. Perhaps the disbelief would translate into newborn rage, a common trait that accompanied something they did not understand. Yet other than narrowing his eyes slightly and presenting a sceptical look, he kept his rage under control.

"Are you trying to tell me, sir, that vampires exist? Because I'm starting to think you're a bit queer." Emmett said, crossing his muscular arms.

"As...queer as it may sound Emmett, that is exactly what I'm trying to tell you." Carlisle replied. "The three of us." He gestured to himself, Edward and I. "And now you, we are examples of that."

"Wait." Emmett said holding his hand up. "Are you trying to tell me, that we're all vampires? As in blood drinking, coffin sleeping, nocturnal vampires? Repelled by crucifix and holy water?"

"Yes and no. While we are vampires, we are nothing like those of legend and popular culture. The venom that enters the system effectively stops our bodily functions, making our skin paler along with other features, and is responsible for that burn at the back of your throat."

Emmett's hand immediately went to his throat, gripping the base of his neck where the fire was sure to be burning. He made an unsavoury face and reflectively swallowed. "Why does it burn?" He questioned.

"It is a sign of your thirst; it will continue to get progressively worse until you take in blood." Responded Carlisle. "But this is where the family differs from other, more traditional vampires. While they drink human blood, we have chosen to explore a more human friendly alternative, we drink animal blood."

"How do you do that? Do we have to hunt and catch them?" Emmett replied, looking rather elated at that prospect.

"Why don't we take this outside?" Edward interjected, most probably viewing a thought process that was unfriendly to our indoor environment.

"Indeed." Carlisle acknowledged. "It is far easier to demonstrate our hunting style, than it is to explain."

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><p>It was not often I confessed to being lost for words, but Emmett was a strange one. After the notion of hunting was instilled within his mind, he became inpatient when listening to the other facts regarding life as a vampire. But he trilled in his new speed, revelled in his strength, and marvelled that trees could be felled so easily.<p>

Although the idea of immortality had excited the adult child, we could only wonder if he fully understood the implication that it brought with it. He could never co-exist with his family; the emotional attachments of his mortality could now only exist as memories.

"It seems to be going well." Esme announced, coming to stand by my side. "He seems a very agreeable young man."

"He's taking it very well, not once ounce of disagreement." I replied, coiling a curl of my pony tail around my finger. "It's very strange."

"Good strange though." She confirmed. "I just hope he will continue to see the benefits of this life."

"He was quite taken with Rosalie." I noted. "Be it newborn emotions or genuine, he was quick to identify her as his angelic saviour."

"I thought it very sweet." Smiled Esme. "She looked quite abashed by the attention."

"Then there is a first time for everything." I responded, recalling the awkward emotions that had subsequently appeared on her face. "I feel I should warn you, he seems to be exceedingly rumbustious in nature, perhaps hiding away the breakables is necessary. He's already broken the iron bed frame, crushed the bedside table and the back door handle. And if his love of felling trees is anything to go by, we're in for a world of trouble."

"You're most probably right." She confirmed, brushing stray leaf litter from her blouse. "Emmett seems mightily impressed with his new found strength. I'll put some of the larger porcelain and glass pieces into the attic, just until he gets a hold of that strength."

Patiently we waited amongst the still standing trees, having finished our untroubled and quick hunts in record time. We had accompanied Emmett on his first hunt, steering him well into the depths of the wilderness and away from any human dwelling. From that point on he needed no guidance, letting natural vampiric instincts take over and taking down his first kill. Ironically a bear.

Rosalie was naturally the next to finish her hunt, re-joining us to wait out the return of the others. Back to her usual self, with no hint to the awkward emotions she had presented earlier on.

"How's he doing?" She questioned off handily, attempting to sound blithe.

"The last time I saw him, he was attempting to climb a tree to get a better vantage point on his prey." I divulged. "So I'd say he's doing pretty well."

"Is it normal?" She said, looking off into the thickets. "I mean, have you ever seen anyone react like that? He's not…broken or anything?"

"I'll not lie, it's a little strange. But newborns always are. Some take to this life well, others…not so much. Emmett seems very…"

"Adept?" Esme prompted.

"Yes, very _adept_ at accepting the unexpected."

Between the tree canopies the last of the daylight began to wane, the air temperature had begun to decrease and the wind had picked up. Waiting became a laborious chore, and my impatience flared up to such a degree I took to pulling on the frayed hem of my sleeve. Nearly pulling apart the cuff by the time we were rejoined by the others, Emmett skidding into the clearing and announcing he had taken down four bears.

"Successful." Esme praised.

"Why don't we head back to the house, get you set up with a room?" Carlisle proposed, deeming Emmett was stocked up on enough blood for the moment. But little coercion was needed; the notion of being able to run meant he was all too eager. The others struggled to catch up with his sudden burst of speed, as he bolted into a race for the house.

"The venom did work, didn't it?" I questioned aloud, watching the violent sway of the thickets in their wake.

"It would seem vampire venom can't change everything." Edward declared, having lingered back. "From what I gathered from his rather...fast paced mind, his behaviours have carried over."

"You mean it's within his nature to be so...exuberant. Has he yet realised this it a permanent status?" I pressed, picking once again at the fraying hem.

"I'm not sure." He replied. "He is too preoccupied with the side effects to think of the drawbacks."

"I suppose I shouldn't complain, he's more agreeable than the last." I announced, recalling the scuffle that had taken place upon the awakening of Rosalie. "Shall we head back? I'm going to give Esme a hand putting away the breakables."

"Carlisle wants to call a family meeting." Edward added, once we had finally set an even pace towards home. "Discuss what to do next."

"Is he thinking of moving us?" I asked with a slightly disgruntled frown, the idea of moving once again was a tedious thing to consider.

"No, he thinks the area and house are suitable for a newborn."

"Which they are." I agreed.

After following several miles behind the others we eventually arrived back shortly after them, coming straight into contact with the new and unexpected changes to the front of the house. The middle porch step had been reduced to nothing more than a splintered mess, and it looked very much like a foot had been the cause of those unplanned renovations. It was just sheer luck Esme was thinking of replacing them with flagstone. Our new member was turning out to be a dab hand at demolition.

We carefully avoided the hole in the steps, shed our shoes into the designated pigeon holes, and joined the rabble in the dining room. Taking pre-planned seating and ready to take part in educating Emmett to the ways of vampire life. But from the way he was admiring his larger bicep muscles, I could safely say it was going to take a while.

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><p>"What number, please?" Stated the bubbly voice on the other end of the telephone, as I held the technology with sheer lack of dexterity.<p>

"I wish to make an out of state call, please." I replied.

"Of course, Ma'am. What state do you require?"

"Washington." I announced, coiling the wire around my finger.

"And the location and number?" Responded the voice, accompanied by the sound of moving pegs on the switchboard.

"Seattle. Can I be put through to the local directory, please?" I questioned.

"Prepare to be connected." The girl on the phone announced.

The ear piece suddenly became filled with static, accompanied by the strange noise of the dialling code. And I was forced to wait as my call was connected through the switchboard at the other end. The little pad of paper; placed there merely for message convenience, became filled with odd little squiggles, as I waited for technology to work.

"The city of Seattle directory, how may I be of service?" Sounded the introduction after a couple of minutes.

"Yes, hello." I began, struggling with the correct etiquette of telephone speak. "I'm looking for the number for Johnson and Hatchet Attorneys."

"One moment, please."

I was quite sure I could have found the number much quicker if I had search manually through the directory book, but so called 'convenience' had persuaded me to give telecommunications a shot. Something I was beginning to regret.

"We have two numbers under that record: inner city second avenue, and out of city Newport." Declared the voice.

"Newport, please." I replied.

"Prepare to be connected." Was shortly followed by yet another dial tone, as my call finally found its recipient. I held the Bakelite receiver under my chin, straightening out the lace mat beneath the device. As the tone continued to ring, solid footsteps could be heard carefully attempting to navigate the stairs with minimal damage.

Since sitting down with Emmett several hours earlier; and having been forced to deliver the real unfortunate truths behind this life, he had been rather quiet. He had taken the first guest room shown to him, and simply requested a moment alone. Everyone had set about starting trivial chores, and allowed him to have a little space.

His careful walk down the stairs was almost comical, a determined look made his dimples all the more prominent, while he kept far away from the polished banister.

"Good Morning, Johnson and Hatchet Attorneys, how can I help?" Chirped the sickly voice.

"I'm correct in assuming you have a Jenks in service?" I inquired, from the corner of my peripherals I clocked Emmett lingering by the bottom step.

"You are correct." Came the reply. "Mr Jenks is one of the company's associates, do you need to book a meeting with him?"

"No. I am one of his clients, I'd like to speak with him."

"I'm sorry Ma'am, that's impossible, Mr Jenks is in a meeting at the moment. Perhaps I can take a message." She simpered.

"I'm really on a very tight schedule, and this is extremely urgent business. Please notify him a Miss Cullen is on the phone." I replied, all be it a little short in tone.

"Yes, of course." Huffed the reply. "Hold, please."

"Fuck." I muttered, as she gave me no chance to respond. Emmett however was successful in drowning out the hold tone, his baritone laugh almost shook the windows.

"Even your cussing is posh." He announced, shaking his head at some inner humour I didn't understand. "I pegged you for the quiet one."

"Oh. And what gave you that impression?" I wondered aloud, shifting the phone to the other ear.

He shrugged. "Guess we haven't really spoken to each other."

"Well it's been a rather eventful day." I replied.

"You're telling me." He gruffed. "Not every day you get mauled by a bear, then a vampire."

"Well if it's any consolation, you're doing well." I acknowledged with an encouraging smile. "If there is anything you need, we're all here to help."

He nodded carefully, seemingly musing over my offer and deliberating over a question. "I do have one request." Came his eventual answer.

"Give me one second to speak to this lackey, and we will talk." I replied, hearing the hold tone click off in my ear.

"M-miss Cullen, I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?" Jenks rambled, nervously breathing down the receiver.

"Can I assume you received my letter?" I queried.

"Yes, yes indeed I did. They will be within the post by next week. I'm afraid it can't be any sooner, I'm waiting on the official paper from my supplier. He can't get them to me until the end of this week, but I will try most definit-"

"There is no hurry." I interrupted. "My reason for calling is not to query the timing, but to notify you I won't require any more documents for the while. My family and I are to leave the country on...business matters, and shan't be needing your services for the moment. Payment will be sent to you once the papers are received, further requests shall be terminated until we return. That is everything; I'll let you return to your meeting. Have a good day."

"Y-you to Miss." He spluttered, before I attached the phone back upon its base and ended the technical convenience.

"I hate telephones." I muttered, shuffling away from the offending item and turning my attentions to something far more important. "What's this request?"

"You got to understand Miss-" He began rather nervously.

"Isabella is fine." I interjected.

"Isabella, my family isn't like this one. We don't have a big fancy house, motorcars, telephones or electricity, and only got running water last summer. Me and my brothers worked the railroads to help out the family, pay for food, clothes, rent. And now I'm no longer putting in my cent…" He rambled off a little unsure of his words.

"I'm sure we can give your family some anonymous support." I replied, tagging on to the meaning behind his speech. "Immortality comes with bountiful opportunities for making yourself financially comfortable." I watched a look of relief settle on his features, and felt glad to have actually been of emotional use. "Is there anything else you need?" Trying to be as helpful as possible.

But I grew wary with his sudden change of emotions, his face lit with a bemused, devious look. "Are you an Edward a couple? Or is that just wishful thinking on his part?"

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><p><em>AN: I am so happy to finally have this chapter out, it seemed to take forever to write. Thanks once again for everyone who reviewed, alerted or favoured the story._


	56. Chapter Fifty Five: Amor Vincit Omnia

_A/N: Easter holidays are finally upon us, and through dodging tutors and their panicked last minute assignments, packing up all my crap to journey back to my hometown, I can at last have my break amongst the snow. As per usual a huge thanks to all those who reviewed, alerted and favoured. It's all the feedback that gives me the needed push to write. _

_Holidai: I'm so happy you liked my newborn Emmett, I hoped to keep his spirited attitude, but include the part about him needing a moment. Even a character as easy going as him must have feelings regarding the human family he had to leave behind. But of course I love writing about the teasing, although it can't be the prude, virgin route, Emmett's sure to find something else to aggravate Edward over. And it is nice to write a story where the main characters are together. Thanks for the review._

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thanks for taking the time to review, nice to know you're still enjoying the story._

_justme98: I hopefully can come to the conclusion you like the story! And thanks so much for the review, always love making another friend!_

_Areej.A.A: Thanks for the review, and don't worry they will be getting together soon._

_CullenBoy123: I always liked the brotherly banter between Emmett and Edward, we shall be having lots more. Thank you for reviewing. _

_viola1701e: How much do I love the idea of Emmett building a log cabin! It's something I could honestly see him doing; perhaps once Esme has finally banished him from the house? As for the teasing, I'm sure Emmett will find something to bully "Eddie" with. Thanks for another review._

_Sarah.A.A: I hate it when teachers do that. I had a presentation to deliver, my lecturer said it was due in a week later, then changed his mind last minute and decided to make us present it two days later, without notice. No one was ready and we all got terrible marks. Congrats on getting the grades you were after! I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter, and liked my newborn Emmett. I think when it came to asking about the money, I could see him being a little bashful. And I love writing Bella attempting to use technology, she's an older soul and I can see her being a little reluctant to change. Thanks for the review._

_reader346: Yay nice to hear everyone is enjoying my take on newborn Emmett, I did like writing his bashful side, and I can imagine him being quite prideful when it came to supporting his family. Thanks for the review._

_MissMartha: I think it was quite important to include his feelings over having to leave his human family, but at the same time include his easy going, mischievous nature described within the book. Having brothers I wondered perhaps if he has identified those relationships within the Cullen's, so Edward will be getting the brunt of the 'brotherly affection.'_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga. _

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><p>Chapter Fifty Five: Amor Vincit Omnia<p>

4th April 1935

"He likes you." I reported, smiling coyly as I painted the red lacquer onto her nails. "And as far as I can tell, you seem very receptive to his attentions. Perhaps you liked him too?"

"I do not." She muttered, failing to make any eye contact that would assure me she was telling the truth. "The only reason he pays attention to me, is due to me being the only single one."

"Please." I waved away her worry. "He has only ever had eyes for you, even before knowing about marital status. And you can vehemently deny it until those metaphorical cows come home, but since he complimented your hair, you've been wearing it down ever since. You don't do such a thing for someone you dislike. Why do you think I wear blue so much? Not only is it my colour, but Edward said he liked me in blue."

"What does it matter?" She said with a defeatist sigh, eyes drifting to the nightscape view outside the French windows. "It would never work."

"Why not?" I asked. "Isn't that how relationships work? You like him, he likes you. You become a couple?"

"You make it sound easy." She replied.

"Can't it be?" I queried, swapping from her right hand to the left.

"I don't know." She muttered, blowing lightly on the red polish. "I don't know if I can put my trust in someone when it comes to...love."

"We'll I can't advise you on that, it's up to you when it comes to putting your trust in someone. But remember you're not the same person as back then, you have the strength to make your own decisions."

"I need to think it over." She replied.

"Take all the time you need, we have a potential forever." I jested, finishing up the final coat on her ruby red nails. "Fancy going into Asheville? I'm in the mood to spend some money; my account interest is burning a hole in my purse."

"Today?" She queried.

"Why not?" I replied. "If you go hunt now, we can leave around half seven and be there for the shop openings at eight."

She considered my offer for a moment, nodding her head slightly as if deliberating the idea. "Alright, I have been after the new Boswell Sisters record, and those nice shoes I saw in the Seers catalogue."

With a plan in implementation to take her mind from the fiasco of love, Rosalie wasted little time in pulling on old clothes, taking to the forest in minutes to stock up before our trip. Feeling somewhat like a tacky betrothal matchmaker, I removed the bright pink lacquer from my nails and instead replaced it with jet.

The rest of the house was eerily quiet, only ever permeated by the sound of creaking floor boards and the occasional pop from the water pipes. Everyone having already vacated the house in order to accompany Emmett on his near daily hunt, his newborn thirst almost unquenchable.

I was quite sure I could have put my spare time to better use, but instead I took to idly styling my hair while listening to a cheesy late night radio show; making me laugh far more than expected. It didn't however last for very long; my lonesome introverted behaviour was interrupted by the one person who I openly tolerated within my personal space.

"Did you get in another fight?" I smirked, taking in his rumpled appearance and the leaves that had taken up residency in his hair.

"Emmett." Was the singular word he mumbled at me, attempting to straighten himself out.

"Sit." I commanded, pushing him down onto our bed so we were at a more even height. "Did you at least win?" I questioned, removing the debris from his person. "I swear I will corn row your hair in future."

"Course I won." He replied, a little put out I had suggested otherwise. "He just caught me off guard the second time, while I was hunting."

"Newborn, eh? Always attacking perfectly respectable vampires." I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck as he accosted us a little closer.

"I've apologized about that on numerous occasions."

"And I shall forever remind you of it." I declared, batting away wandering hands. "I need to get dressed, not undressed."

"Why?" He muttered, hands already fisting the fabric of my dress.

"Because Rosalie and I are going to town." I announced. "Do you want to come with?"

He shook his head, not giving a verbal response, instead putting his energy into attempting to unbutton the back of my dress. "It buttons all the way down." I educated. "No ripping either, I like this dress."

"Can't you just buy another?" Came his smart reply, fingers already having successfully undone half.

"You are so very annoying." I retorted, attempting to rescue myself from the situation as it slowly started to sink into the scandalous. Unfortunately I moved a little too quickly, and heard the tell tale sign of fabric in distress.

"Please tell me that was the sound of your clothes ripping." I moaned, nevertheless feeling the tear along the button seam.

"If I tell you that it would be a lie." He said, not looking the least bit guilty. I attempted to punched his arm, but he was able to deflect quite skillfully and I ended up flailing around like an idiot.

"That was nasty, Isabella." He smirked, having a grip on my wrists that void any attempts to move away.

"Are you surprised." I retorted coyly, brushing my lips against his in an ultimately teasing move. He was quick to react, lips moving against mine feverishly, hands now entangled within my hair. Perhaps I could have confessed to having been rather adept at seducing, but it seemed like maybe I had been the victim this time.

Unlucky for me my unneeded rescue came all too soon, the crunch of the insect screen meeting its demise, cursing and apologies, before Emmett announcing his return.

"Fucks sake." Edward growled into my shoulder.

"Such an affinity for poor timing." I sighed with a disgruntled pout, retying the laces along the back of my rather vintage corset.

"I can't wait till we go away." He whispered, tracing the silvery scars along my collar bone.

"Once Emmett's a little less...eh Emmetty, we can go." I agreed with a nod.

"Emmetty? Is that a technical term?"

"Yes. There are few words within the English language that can describe him; he's in a league of his own."

"That's putting it mildly." He muttered.

No truer words had ever been spoken, Emmett found it almost impossible to comprehend we were our designated ages. Giving Carlisle constant shifty looks at the news he was pushing two hundred and eighty. For a while he came to the strange conclusion that Edward and I had been forced into marriage, not comprehending we were older than our young appearance. I was left with the task of simply explaining I was almost double his age, Edward was not wishfully thinking, and our marriage was consented and legitimate.

I retrieved my less than stellar dress from the floor, examining the tear in the fabric and deciding it could be revived with a little stitching. But for now a re-choice in garment was required; a blouse and skirt would suffice, covered up by a tailored woollen coat. I void the decision of a felt beret, instead fixing my hair back into some acceptable style.

Once complete, and gaging myself with a happy, tolerable judgement, I left to deliver the outing invite to other members of the household. Overlooking Carlisle as his shift was beginning to loom closer.

"Esme, do you want to come to town with Rosalie and I?" I first began, passing her and her latest project pulling apart the secondary living room.

"No I'm alright, you two go have fun." She smiled, continuing onwards with painting the wall after her hunting sabbatical.

"Did you want me to get you anything?" I continued, becoming a general nuisance and inspecting the paint colours.

"If it's not too much trouble." She countered. "Could you possibly get me some carpet tacks?"

"Of course." I replied slowly. "Although I was thinking more along the lines of a new pair of shoes or something sparkly, but I suppose I could pay a visit to the hardware store."

"I'm afraid I've been quite boring in my request." Esme stated, brushing the mauve paint onto the top half of the walls. "But should you come across something of my taste, I'd be much obliged."

"Consider it done." I grinned.

"So this is where all the fun is." Emmett announced loudly, roaming down the hall with enough presence to make an introvert quake. "All dolled up, Bella."

"Rosalie and I are off out into town." I reported once again, slyly noting the slight disappointment that flit across his face. I'd bet my life savings it wasn't because of my departure. "Are you going to listen to the game?"

He struck his hand together resounding a loud clap of excitement. "Of course. Tigers against the White Sox, live commentary, it's got my name written all over it."

"Tigers or Sox?" I questioned with a narrow of the eyes.

"Tigers. White Sox suck." He replied confidently, standing taller should anyone disagree.

"Do you even follow the season, the Sox are within top five." Edward baulked, descending from the stairs to argue for his team.

"Yeah, through sheer luck. Your deep fielding team are all fingers and thumbs, and don't even get me started on the batting." Emmett ranted.

"You're completely wrong. We have Appling, Lyons-" My husband argued.

"I'll give you Lyons, but the rest suck. You even failed to get Ruth." Emmett declared, crossing his muscular arms in retaliation.

"Only because those money loaded Yankees-"

"No slighting the Yankees." I warned, inputting my cent into the argument.

"I respect the Yankees, but if you want a team to support you need to be siding with the Braves." Emmett told me plainly.

"The Braves?" Edward repeated with disbelief. "You must be joking."

They proceeded to bicker, both supporting teams that were terrible, and playing arguments that were petty. Eventually when the conversation was no longer fun, Rosalie returned from her hunt and allowed me to keep occupied by styling her hair. By the time we had finished in our female rituals and come down to leave, the argument had moved into the parlour, and the two had roped in Carlisle. Each argumentative comment inputted in between pre-game chat on the wireless. It was wondrous how much men loved sports.

By half past seven we were making the journey to town; within the recently refurbished Packard that boasted a top speed of ninety miles an hour. Although hindered by the fifty mile speed limit.

"I was thinking about what you said earlier." She began, once the idle tête-à-tête about the attractiveness of Clark Gable and Leslie Howard had ended.

"Is this the Emmett thing? Or choosing a honeymoon destination?" I replied to her vague statement.

"The Emmett thing." She clarified. "But I think you should push for somewhere more exciting than Maine for your honeymoon."

"Do elaborate." I queried, turning my eyes back to the road as we joined the east bound highway.

"Well for starters it rains a lot in Maine, all I can recall is forests and lakes. Nothing much to do."

"I don't mean to be crude, but we're not exactly going to Maine to simply view the sights." I relayed "And I meant elaboration on the Emmett front."

"I know." She countered with a half smile. "But do you really, honestly, think he likes me in that way?"

"When I told him you and I were off to Asheville, his crestfallen face was almost comical, and I'm doubtful it was because of me. And just recall how many times he complemented you before we left the house, even when sport talk was occurring. Men are simple creatures, they say what they mean."

"It was a few." She recalled with a faint smile.

"And what are your opinions of him? You must think him partially admirable to consider such things as relationships and possibly love." I wondered.

"I've thought about it." She revealed, twisting the corner of her chinchilla cloth coat. "But he knows nothing about my history, about what happened."

"Should it matter? It's the past and that can't be changed. Acknowledgement, yes. Dwelling, no. But I cannot preach to you, my theory of the importance of the past comes from mere observation. Perhaps you could just try talking to him?" I shrugged.

"What if it doesn't work?"

"What if it does?"

"Your answers aren't very helpful." She told me plainly.

"I'm making it up as I go along. You're strong enough in character to get whatever you want, if that happens to be a relationship, I have little doubt you will get it." I replied, fixing her with my best pointed stare.

"Maybe." Came her annoyingly vague response. "Maybe I should ensure his affections first."

"Yeah, you could do that…if this was nineteenth century England that approach would work just fine. Or you could just cut the pretentious bullshit and talk to him, people can do that nowadays." I explained honestly. "You'll know, he'll know. It may work, or not. Either way you will know."

She decided against replying for a small age, leaving me to move my concentration back to the road and revel in the fact I was still a tacky matchmaker. But they seemed like a well matched couple, he permanently doted upon her, made her feel special. While a hardened stare from her could stop the roaming male in his tracks. They seemed to be made from completely different cloth, and yet complimented each other in their differences.

I would not deter that if would be increasingly easier if they paired up, no awkward lonely members. Conversations regarding being coupled would no longer have to be censored in fear of falling foul of someone's feelings.

And low and behold, I honestly wanted Rosalie to be happy. She was a completely different person around Emmett, agreeable, sympathetic and cooperative. The notion of love could do wonders for a person's character.

The two just needed a slight push in the right direction.

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><p><em>AN: They are well on the way to becoming a couple, and that push will soon be coming in a much grander and dangerous process. Although I don't wish to reveal all, the revenge ridden flame haired sub-villain will soon be making a reappearance. Thanks for reading. _


	57. Chapter Fifty Six: Eminor

_A/N: Seeing as snow decided to make another appearance last week, and thusly stuff got cancelled because of it, I've actually had time to sit down and write. Hurrah! Unfortunately the technicality that British summer time has begun is a total joke, it may not get dark for another hour but it's still bloody cold out there. But on to much more interesting news (vetoing the weather speak...I could rant and rave about weather forever) this chapter will mark one hundred and fifty thousand words (I also swear I never planned that) and how tantalisingly close we are to this stories anniversary! Two year birthday...and the sainthood you all deserve for staying with me this long. As usual thanks for the reviews, alerts and favours._

_Guest: Writing Emmett and Rosalie falling in love is actually quite a difficult prospect, there is of course an almost instantaneous physical attraction, but I wanted to include the other aspects that make up their relationship. They are completely different people, who seem to have very little in common. Then again they say opposites attract. Thanks for the review._

_Guest: Not sure how to respond to "bleh," so I'll just input something I find fascinating. Did you know the English Language consists of over six hundred thousand words, and the average person knows typically in the realm of twelve - twenty thousand words (varying with the level of education.) That's only ten percent. And Shakespeare invented an incredible one thousand seven hundred words within his works._

_MissMartha: I think Rosalie will be a little cautious when it comes to any aspect resolving in becoming vulnerable, but once she realises what she wants will have no qualms about getting it. Thanks for taking the time to review._

_CullenBoy123: Thanks for the review. Well I won't divulge much...but let's just say the dealings of a certain flame haired menace may give them the added push._

_leahmarie59: I'm so happy to hear you say you still like the story, sometimes I do worry it's getting a little stale. My affinity for attempting to include everything sometimes makes it run a little slow. I really do love Emmett, he's such a refreshing character to include. And it's funny you should mention Carlisle, as I was writing the last chapter I realised it had been so long since we had heard from him. So I made sure he got his time within this chapter. And my love for snow goes as far as watching it fall. Thanks for the review, always love a long one!_

_Matthias Stormcrow: Action! Some kick ass vampire action, and the return of Victoria. Finally revealing her plans. Thanks for reviewing once again._

_Jojo657: Thanks for reviewing. Indeed she is back, with a horde of minions and her usual psychotic whim for revenge._

_viola1701e: Oh indeed, protector being the key word for the upcoming chapters. I'm not one for the cliché damsel in distress, but seeing as it's Emmett and Rosalie...I could be persuaded to bend the rules. Go a little fairy tale. I'm sure Esme will be delighted that his newborn strength is being used for other...pursuits, rather than slowly breaking the items within the house. Thanks for reviewing._

_Holidai: They may vehemently deny having a close relationship, but they're definitely within the sisterly realm. Only sisters can bicker so much. And who doesn't love a randy Edward? It's a fun side to write, I'm surprised I haven't written them taking an impromptu honeymoon. Thanks for the review._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Fifty Six: Eminor<span>

"I officially adore the way they react to the news there is no budget." Rosalie grinned with a savory look towards the rail of clothes under her touch. "One little comment and low and behold the nicest of items."

"You should have seen the human faces when I announced the need for a complete bridal trousseau, money not an issue." I retaliated quietly, flitting through the exquisitely displayed shoes. "Money seems to be the key."

"I have never shopped like this." She confessed, selecting anything that took her fancy. "It is...exciting. Having the ability to afford anything."

"Exactly." I nodded in agreement. "Edward says I'm addicted to it...but it's not about buying everything within sight, it's about finding something you like and having the ability to purchase it. Plus he's a male and they just don't understand."

"You know it's funny, I used to see you all the time shopping on Main Street." She commented. "How jealous I used to be of all the fine things you could afford, the people used to speculate you were from an affluent British family. That's where all your money came from."

"Are you disappointed?" I smiled. "The money is from two hundred years of simple physicians work, and illicit gambling on the stock market, no affluent families."

"Much more interesting." She commented. "Perhaps you could teach me to illicitly gamble, I'd like to give it a try."

"I'd love to show you, no one else within the family likes to take the risk. But there is money to be made, with the Works Progress Admin and this Social Security measures being implemented, I'm sure it will boost the economy. I've had my mark upon buying shares within the steel and iron industries, seems like there's going to be a growing demand for their services, and thus money to be had."

"Is it easy to forecast?" She questioned in between making a decision between a peach or lilac coat.

"No, increasingly difficult with the humans being so cautious." I replied. "I've lost money because of their timid economic nature. But I suppose that's part of the fun. Carlisle's pretty good at forecasting, if you ever want a second opinion he knows what he's talking about." I accounted to her engaging nods.

"You ready?" I queried louder than our current conversation, spectating upon two young men who were drifting conspicuously in our direction. Sharing looks and utterances of encouragement, nudging each other into awkward advances.

"All Done." Rosalie confirmed, having already clocked the movement of the males. She flounced away with her usual extravagance, leaving me to follow on behind with much less pizazz.

We bought far too much, over indulging with anything that took our fancy and racking up a bill that stretched into the hundreds of dollars. Cash was exchanged and numerous shiny bags, boxes and parcels were handed over. Once stashed in the back bench of the Packard, we continued onward into the central area of the city.

Fighting through the crowds of people, we linked arms, holding on tightly to each other, out of more than the simple fear of losing one another in the masses. But with breathing firmly terminated, and her determination to see what Asheville had to offer, Rosalie powered through any bloody desires. Ignoring all the temptations around and looking straight ahead towards the next destination.

The muggy weather sent the humans strolling towards the open parkways, yearning for a break from the heat and the blessing of the rare breeze. The streets were nonetheless busy, the designated lunch hour was upon us and the local delicatessens and eateries packed with customers. We weaved our way through the people, dodging the abundance of linen and light coloured cloth that had made its appearance in the season.

"Bookstore." I announced, gesturing to the rather empty looking burgundy facade on the opposite side of the street. Entering without the usual ping of the bell; the missing clapper the probable reason behind the lack of sound.

The whole place resembled something akin a labyrinth, the front filled with tall and tightly packed cases. Room for only one to browse the Dewey Decimal classified rows.

Other than the woman manning the cash register, an older gentleman sitting into one of the ill fitting chairs, it was deserted. Deeming it safe we parted ways, Rosalie soon lost within the maze of mismatching cases and out of sight. I went to explore and commandeer the onward passage, a narrow little space blighted with poorly constructed shelves on the uneven walls. Brush too close to either side and it appeared the whole place would fall, not helped by the stacks of books littering the floor.

With the upmost care, and thankful for vampire graces, I examined the piles. Flitting through some increasingly vintage texts, ranging from languages, botany, to Berthold and his endocrinology advancements. I hoarded a range of topics in my arms, grabbing subjects I had yet to learn about. My interest always seemed to fluctuate, the perpetual _Jack of all trades, Master of none_.

The passage narrowed further, the selves protruding even more and the space becoming barely passable. Even with my lesser height, I felt the need to stoop. At the very end of the tunnel there stood a doorway, void of any such door, but instead a patterned curtain hung limply at the threshold. Behind it; and only audible since moving down to this end of the store, the fluttering heartbeat of a human. Made all the more obvious by the way their small feet peaked out from under the curtain.

"Hello." I tried quietly, not wanting to alarm the small figure as I moved to view the books at the far end.

Their slightly rapid breathing quickened, along with the tempo of their heart. But slowly, little hands gripped the tapestry and made a small gap to peak through. I could make out a mop of sandy blonde hair, messily falling across their face, obscured even more by a pair of round spectacles.

"Hello." I repeated once again.

"Hullo." The tiny lilted voice replied, widening the gap to view me a little more.

"How are you?" I questioned. Smiling at the way he continually pushed the large frames up his nose.

"Well." Came his quiet polite reply. "How are you?"

"I'm very well, thank you. Is this your shop?"

He shook his head, knocking the glasses back down his nose. "It's my Grandmothers." Came his eventual response. "B-but I sometimes help out."

"How envious I am, getting to spend all day amongst the books. You must be a great fan of reading?" I mused, keeping a good several yard distance as not to spook the child.

He nodded in response, pushing those wired frames back to the bridge of his nose as they slipped down once again. His confidence within the situation grew once I turned my attention away, drawing the loomed curtain to one side and openly watching as I browsed through the books. "Do you like to read?" His soft voice questioned.

"Indeed I do." I replied, keeping my attention on the book spines. "It is one of my favourite past times."

From my peripheral vision I examined the now revealed human, sat quite calmly on the bottom step of a flight of rickety looking stairs. To his left sat a small pile of books, roughly piled and bearing titles of popular children's texts. While on his right, the remnants of lunch and a glass of water. "Do you have a favourite book?" I asked him.

His brows pulled down into a frown, archaic of thought and contemplation. "I like...Great Expectations." He announced proudly.

"A fan of Charles Dickens." I praised. "Do you like his other works?"

"I do." He announced eagerly. "I liked Oliver Twist, and we're reading Christmas Carol at school."

"Oh they are two of my favourites." I agreed. Wondering if this was perhaps the most stimulating conversation regarding books I had had in a while, the child knew a good story when he heard it. "What are you reading today?"

Instead of reciting the title of the book, he brandished the front cover towards me. "The Merchant Marine Act of Nineteen Twenty." I read aloud. "You're reading that all by yourself?

"I can read some words, but lots are too big. I like to look at the pictures of the ships." He told me. "Have you ever been on a ship?"

"Well...-"

"Isabella. You done?" Came Rosalie's call, closely followed by her skirting moves as she attempted to move down the tiny space.

"Yeah. I'll be there in a moment." I called back to her.

"I got to go." I told the small boy. "But I'll definitely be back; you will have to let me know what you think of A Christmas Carol."

"I will." He lilted, rocking back and forth on his step. "Ask for Ralph...because that's my name. If not you might have to speak to my brother, Eugene." He wrinkled his nose. "Grams says he's a bit of a...de-delinquent."

"I'll be sure to ask for you." I assured.

* * *

><p>"Have you given up on listening to the game?" I questioned, entering into Carlisle's study with a meager knock to signal my arrival.<p>

"I'm sure I'll be getting a summary for days to come." He replied, filing away a pile of monotonous hospital papers.

"Have they been like that the entire time?" I queried, still able to hear their on-going sport bickering as the game paused at the end of an innings.

"They've been at it since you left, before the game, during the game, during innings. And no doubt after." He informed, shaking his head with a humorous smile.

"I hear bets have been taken."

"On every possible venture." He said. "I decided to cut my losses and keep my money safe once the bets became outlandish."

"I'll have to take care not to mention sporting matches in future." I decided, pretending to ignore the loud calls and yells from downstairs. "Onto more pressing matters. The last of the papers from Jenks." Passing him the mundane looking, brown paper and twine wrapped, parcel. "That should keep us going for a while."

"Excellent." He acknowledged, taking the box and breaking through the masking tape and string seal. "I suppose we're ready come any more...unexpected members."

"We can account for two more with the number of things I ordered." I replied humorously, falling into one of the comfy armchairs and watching with nosy interest as he pulled out the papers. "It would seem his day job at the firm has done nothing to hinder his ability to pervade documents."

"Do I detect some surprise within your tone?" Carlisle questioned, spreading out the bounty upon his desk.

"I was more surprised to see them sitting within my pigeon hole, he has worked quickly to get them to us."

"Or perhaps it was under the promise we would be taking a sabbatical from his services." He counted.

"Are you suggesting I am a demanding client?" I replied with my best innocent face. "So I may have thrown around some suggestible threats, used my demeanour in a less than stellar manor."

"You said it not I." He announced, hands up in surrender.

"You're most probably right, he was all too keen to deliver this package. Get us off his books as soon as possible. Should I feel-" I was interrupted as Emmett let out an almighty jeer, avidly yelling at the batting displayed by the Tigers. Followed by footsteps coming down the hall, and Rosalie stopping at the threshold of Carlisle's study.

"This is stupid." She declared, tapping her fingernails against the door frame. "All this over a game."

"I wouldn't say that too loudly." Carlisle joked.

"How much longer does this go on for?" She complained.

"Games on its ninth innings, shouldn't be much longer." I informed her.

"Then we just have to deal with a gloating winner and resentful loser." Carlisle interjected. Forgetting I was married to the probable resentful loser, and would be listening to excuses and inequality of umpiring for days.

"You have a team?" I asked her.

She met my gaze with an obvious one. "Rochester Red Wings."

"For the blessing of your own sanity don't tell Emmett that, they beat the Braves last month." I told her.

"Why not?" She counted, toying with the end of her hair. "Maybe it will teach him to support a better team."

"Rather you than I, Rosalie. Emmett seems to be quite fond of The Braves." Carlisle said, putting the spread of papers into some illegible order.

"The Braves." She huffed. "What a joke." Before taking to the floor and descending to join the last minute baseball game chaos.

"I suppose I should join, get ready with some soothing words and consolation. Looks like the White Sox have another loss to add to their game stats." I announced, pushing myself from the comfort of a well upholstered chair and to a stand.

"I shall follow you down in a moment, let me get these papers ready and we can fill them out with Emmett." Carlisle explained.

"That's if you can stop the gloating." I called on the way out.

It was a while before Carlisle even got the chance to sit down with Emmett and fill out his needed documents of verification. But under the stance of winning two hundred dollars, and then being told he was getting a new identity by illegal means, he eventually responded to calls to the table. We all sat around with him, merely as a formality and so called support. But mostly to tell Emmett 'bear killer' was unacceptable as a middle name.

"If I can't have _bear killer_, I don't want one." He announced to us all.

"Middle names are overrated anyhow." I told him. "I don't have one, and it's not impacted on my life in any way."

"Too right." He agreed with an exaggerated nod. "But I still like 'bear killer.'"

The sudden ring of the telephone sliced through the quiet conversations with its shrill little bell and unmatchable pitch. Its tone sent a shiver up my spine. No one made a move to answer it, all quite idly engrossed with the apparent business at hand.

"I'll get it then, shall I?" I asked with a rhetorical click of disapproval. The resounding conversations that continued undisturbed remained the clear answer. On the tenth or eleventh ring I picked up the receiver, holding it to my ear in the stately fashion of an expert.

"Hello." I began quite clearly.

"Operator speaking, there is an incoming call for you. Person to person reverse charge from Alaska, do you wish to connect?" Announced the mysterious phantom voice.

The only person, who would openly have the audacity to make such an expensive call, was indeed Tanya. Although the Denali house was void of such technology as telecommunications, Kate had discovered a public call box in the nearest town. When convenient for them we occasionally made the cross state calls, and due to the fact they usually made said calls they also picked up the tab. It now seemed one of the sisters; and I presumed Tanya for her lack of tact, had become technology smart.

"I'll take the call." I sighed, shooting Edward with a warning look when he began to laugh.

"Prepare to be connected." And into the realm of dial tones and strange noises I fell.

"Hope you don't mind about the bill." I told Carlisle, balancing the phone under my chin.

"Why have you bothered accepting the call?" Rosalie questioned, idly flicking through an old issue of Vogue.

I shrugged. "It's been a while." Came my lame excuse.

After several minutes of impatience waiting, consisting mostly of throwing a scrunched up note paper back and forth with Emmett, the phone suddenly clicked.

"Bella, shit I'm so glad you're at home." Resounded Tanya's familiar lilt. "We have got a serious problem."

"What's going on?" I questioned, holding the phone more tightly in my hand and ignoring the ball of paper as it hit the side of my head. "Is everyone alright?"

"Everyone's fine...for the moment." Her rapid and whispered voice identifying her panicked movements. From behind me I could sense the room listening in to the call, poising their movements to hear what was being said.

"Seems that red headed bitch hasn't taken that male's death as well as we'd hoped."

"Victoria?" I concluded.

"Yeah. You're not going to believe what happened, B." She replied with an uncomfortable tenor of dread.

"Tell me." I coaxed, giving a tight smile to the rest of the family. "We're all here and listening."

"Couple of days ago Laurent pulled another disappearing act, Irina, Kate and Garrett; as per usual, when out looking for him."

"Did he slip, reveal himself?" I questioned.

"No, not even close. They found his scent heading west, out of the National Park and towards several isolated farming communities. Not only that, but his trail coincided with that of several other vampires…one of which Kate said was definitely Victoria." She said.

"So…" I dragged. "He's consorting with Victoria and her group."

"That's what we think. However Garrett continued onwards to take a look in the surrounding area, he managed to make it to one of the farming outposts…said the place had been decimated. The village massacred, bodies left to rot in the snow, and there were piles of vampire ash."

"Tanya." I warned carefully, catching Carlisle's eye in alarm. "That sounds an awful lot like newborn activity."

"Shit." She whispered down the receiver. "That's what Garrett thought, he estimated from the number of scent trails there could be six or seven of them. And their trails cover the entire area surrounding Denali."

"Sounds like they're attempting to box you in." I summed grimly.

"Do they need our help?" Carlisle stated, his forehead creased into a stern frown.

"Do you need our help?" I repeated down the telephone.

"Please." She said. "I honestly wouldn't ask if it wasn't desperate."

"It's ok." I soothed the unusually frayed blonde. "That's what we're here for. We'll be on our way as soon as possible, see you all in a couple days?"

"Yes, see you then, and be careful. They haven't been seen in the area, we don't know where they might be hiding out."

"We will. And take care of yourself."

The telephone disconnected with a deafening click, plunging the room into silence. That was until Emmett clapped his hands together and announced a resounding. "Road trip."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Finally I am able to write some good old action, it has all become a little blasé and society polite. So I am definitely looking forward to writing a little down and dirty vampire rage. Thanks once again for the reviews, alerts and favours. _


	58. Chapter Fifty Seven: Paratus

_A/N: Turns out being stuck in the house ill, is a really great way to get motivated to write, I have been confined to my bed with only my laptop and really bad daytime television to keep me company. Luckily my mind has managed to shake off the lackluster of having the disgusting flu, and run rampant with the plot for this chapter. Thanks for the great response to the last chapter, a huge fourteen reviews! Also a thanks to everyone who had put the story, or author (blush) on alerts/favours. And welcome to everyone who has joined._

_vampdreams: Wow super blush when I read such a nice review, I feel a flush coming on! Alice and Jasper won't be involved in the Victoria fiasco, but they will; of course, be along soon. As for Bella and her fighting prowess, she loves a good fight, I love writing fights…she is definitely going to kill some newborns. Thanks for such a great review, won't keep you waiting for too long!_

_Valkyrie Shadow: You have hit the nail on the head when it came to my reasons to write this, there are so many incredible fanfics on this site, but sometimes it is hard to find one in which Bella is a strong female character. So that is what I am trying so very hard to portray. Being in love is all well and good, but there are other issues to contend with. She loves her family, but that shouldn't take away any of her independence. And Laurent…in my eyes he and Irina are not mates, like the books he seemed to switch his loyalties rather easily. He doesn't portray himself as the 'mate' type. (Going to be honest…he most probably won't make it through the battle.) Thanks for the review; I'm so glad my desire to have a strong character is coming through. _

_demilovaro4eva: Naturally such an Emmett response to a generally dire situation, but he wouldn't be himself without excitement for the impending fight. Thank you for once again taking the time to review._

_reader346: Oh goodness yes! Yes to the newborn army, and the fight. I miss writing the gore and ferocity of battles, so expect it to get a little messy. Thanks for reviewing._

_Areej.A.A: Don't worry; it's nice to hear from you! My feelings on technology range from hatred to mild dislike. Jacob most probably will be mentioned or included much later on, other than Bella most characters are within their original timeline. Alice and Jasper aren't going to be in the upcoming chapters, but after this altercation there will be a time gap and their story will be the next. And I'm sure I can squeeze in Ralph somewhere, he's cute and it's nice to see Bella making a new friend. As for Laurent…the only one who truly cares for his welfare is Irina. I can't guarantee his safe return. Thanks for the review._

_leahmarie59: Thanks for the review. I like writing them doing normal things, take away the whole 'vampire' thing and they are just a regular, slightly dysfunctional family. Realised how much I missed Carlisle's input. As for the dirty fighting…it's my favourite thing to write, mixed with a little gore, I'm most probably going to savour writing it. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: Always nice to see your name pop up in my email box, thanks so much for the great review._

_MissMartha: Thank you for reviewing. They've been living like humans for too long, time to input a little rage. _

_viola1701e: He may be rooting for that exact middle name once this is all over. And I loved the idea of him asking "Are we there yet?" so I've incorporated something similar into the story. The image made me laugh. Thanks for reviewing. _

_Sarah.A.A: That's quite alright! I'm glad you liked the chapter. It can't always be about the Cullen's, and Tanya did make quick and efficient work of killing James. Vicky's out for some revenge. Thanks for your review!_

_CullenBoy123: I love writing in a villain, of course Victoria thinks herself the heroic avenger. But there's going to be some fighting nonetheless. Thank you for reviewing again._

__ .7: _Thanks so much for the review, I'm glad to hear you're still enjoying. How excited I am to be writing the fight. _

_Holidai: You know that's the part I could never understand in the books; perhaps I am a stereotypical girl, but I can't say I've met anyone who openly detests buying themselves something. It's exciting. As someone who has no past, I suppose it's like Bella is collecting material possessions, affirming her existence with nice things. Two stunning vampires are sure to attract some attentions, but they can be discreet in avoiding such advances. And you got my unsubtle hint towards Alice and Jasper. Thanks for reviewing. _

_Jojo657: Well let's just say things are not looking great for Laurent; there are a number of people who would most probably like to see him dead. That's if he isn't already dead. Thanks for the review. _

* * *

><p>Chapter Fifty Seven: Paratus<p>

April 10th 1935

There was no simple way to cross the entirety of the United States with a newborn; you could never definitively be within a safe distance of human civilization. And so numerous maps were consulted before even attempting such a feat, road, city, geography, topography, national parks, all pored over to find the safest route. Eidetic memory aside, maps made plans, plans that needed to be discussed and understood by everyone.

Speed and safety were the key elements that forced the final decision. Relative to how quickly we wished to come to the aid of extended family, we could not jeopardise the preservation of human life, or risk our own safety with a rampant new vampire. So it was decided upon to take the safer route, running northeast until we hit the Canadian border, following the northern shores of the Great Lakes, until a final three thousand mile push north west to Denali.

Through rough calculations we deemed it to be a journey of over five thousand miles, non-stop running and we deemed it two and a half days, but with hunting and extra caution needed for humans, we pushed for three to four. Yet it was the best route we could devise.

Leaving as soon as possible. Day clothes were immediately replaced with the usual humdrum of disposable hunting outfits, covered by coats in an attempt to fit in with the cold weather up north. Emmett was told to hunt as much as his stomach could physically handle. Rosalie and Carlisle to watch over him; the former to input some well learnt encouragements for when it came to drinking till sickness prevailed.

Eventually come seven o'clock that very same evening we began to run, and although the plight of the family wore heavy on the journey I could not deny the thrill each step bought. An archaic run to battle that hadn't been on the table in quite some time.

We managed to stay within quite a tight formation, Emmett within the middle and the family surrounding him at every port of call. I, along with Edward; for his ability to set a pace was second to none, took the front. A placement I grew exceedingly thankful for, once Emmett began to comprehend the distance we were to travel.

"Are we at the border yet?" Followed by. "Where exactly are the Great Lakes?" And finally when Rosalie came so close to throttling him. "Are we in Alaska yet?" It was honestly not so hard to see why vampires were naturally nomadic creatures.

His final moan about there being a lack of bears this far north was too much for Rosalie, and she delivered the most skilful and artfully crafted slap to the back of his head. He was still rubbing that spot some twenty miles later. Emmett's crafty response was to announce his preference to 'feisty ones,' much to the awkwardness of the group.

By the early hours of April eighth we finally made it to the Alaskan border, with the aid of a perfectly good plan and Carlisle's compass, little trouble had been encountered. Before passing over from Canada to Alaska we had all hunted in Kluane National Reserve, making sure we were a ready for any such ambush once with Denali. But other than numerous unknown trails, we came across nothing immensely incriminating, and were successfully able to reach the isolated house.

The thrum of pre-battle excitement seemed to fizzle out as two days passed and nothing happened. Introductions between Emmett and the Denali's were a comforting success, he and Garrett got along extremely well. Although I reckoned it was partially due to Garrett's stories regarding the battles he had been present at, telling elaborate tales of the Siege of Yorktown, and how he had almost come to change Custer at The Battle of Little Bighorn. Unsuccessful as he was killed by the Indian warriors, before he could make a move.

Irina on the other hand was a completely different personality from our last meeting, she had at first ardently rejected the idea Laurent had been in coercion with Victoria. But once his tracks had been found mingling with the presumed army, evidence could not be disputed. She had therefore deemed he was being held against his will, that this was a rescue mission. Yet the family around her had not the heart to point out…he was shifty as hell.

"Surely we should have been able to locate them by now?" I addressed Garrett, pushing the toe of my leather boot into a pile of presumed vampire ash.

"Odd isn't it." He agreed hands behind his back and surveying the remnants of the farmstead. "Perhaps the combined scent of both our covens is enough to make her think twice?"

"I don't know." I mused, looking through the broken windows and body shaped holes in the drywall. "Including herself and Laurent; should he still be amongst the living, and the number of unidentifiable trails, that is...?"

"Around eight, nine." He informed.

"Give or take for deaths caused by inner fights and offhand recruitments, we will say nine for all intensive purposes. That's seven newborns, and two relatively experienced fighters. Against twelve of us, one being a newborn, and two with abilities that can aid us. That gives us a slight advantage, however..."

"But we don't know if they possess any abilities." He summed, giving a disgusted look towards some poorly buried human remains.

"Exactly." I acknowledged. "Even without abilities, Victoria is likely to take up those odds; she never came across as rational. So why is she waiting?"

We remained in silence pondering over the facts as a bitter wind blew through the building's shell, the sound of our covens were audible along the property's perimeter. A cautious look out should anything wish to return to the base, and needed to investigate any more unnoticed vampire remains along the edge.

"You think Laurent's still alive?" Garrett finally disclosed with a faint whisper, careful not to alert the one sister who was taking his _disappearance_ badly.

"Honestly...I don't think so. He was of use to her as an inside informant, but now we are aware of her schemes, he has no use. If it was me, I would have killed him. I don't wish to cause trouble amongst our covens, but Laurent has aided those in illegally hunting within claimed lands. Both ours and yours, that means in accordance with Volturi laws…"

"He is fair game." He declared. "Hunting and recruiting with an area claimed by a vampire, or coven, who have existed on the land prior to the other vampire."

"Recruiting..." I stated with a sudden and awful thought. "Maybe that's it."

"What?" He questioned, looking down from his towering height.

"Recruiting, maybe that's why she hasn't made herself known, the last time we came across Victoria we were two members less. Rosalie and Emmett had yet to join us. She built the army in response to ten opponents not twelve. Upon coming across our tracks, she realises her chances of success are even more so diminished."

"You think she may seek to recruit more then?"

"It is the only conclusion I can deem pliable with the evidence."

He frowned deeply, turning to face the remnants of the entrance threshold and called out to everyone else. "Ladies, gentlemen we may have a slight problem."

* * *

><p>"What can we do?" Tanya demanded the moment we all squeezed around a table that was meant for eight.<p>

"We can wait till she finally reveals herself and makes a move, or we take action now. Seek her out and make an attempt to stop her before she has chance to recruit anymore." Garrett announced to his audience, his tough demeanour slightly inhibited by his blonde mate sat on his knee.

"If we were to seek her out: which I'm only suggesting at this point, do we know where to look?" Eleazar questioned, hands clasped on the table top.

"We can presume, very much like her first recruitments within the state, she will target isolated communities. Not only are the people sturdy for a change, but their houses and farms make for excellent bases." I inputted, shifting under the weight of eyes that fell on me, luckily the shortage of chairs meant my seat came upon the lap of my own mate.

"Alright so we resort to tracking." Carlisle summed.

"Is anyone adept at tracking?" Tanya interrupted, looking around our faces to see who would identify themselves. "Bella, you can track, right?"

"Don't count on my skills, I have a very basic ability, tricks I learnt from my creator. But I'm no tracker." I replied, holding my hands up to deflect the attention.

"How difficult can it be?" Carmen lilted with her exotic accent. "There are twelve of us, against newborns who have no inclusion when it comes to covering their tracks. Plus we have a newborn of our own."

"You know I'm game." Emmett countered eagerly, from his stance behind Rosalie's seat.

"Those odds are what we are counting on." Garrett declared. "Victoria may have the ability to escape even the most brazen of situations, but even she cannot control the tracks of such a group."

"It seems as if we have all come to conclusion, hunting her down is the best bet." Eleazar commented, tapping his thumbs together. "But this is a democracy, is everyone in favour?"

There came a unanimous arm raise from everyone, no hesitation, even Irina, who was beginning to viewed our arrival with slight sourness. Feeling as if we had set upon a witch hunt for Laurent, instead of looking to rescue him.

"I vouch we go over some of the newborn fighting traits." Eleazar stated. "They do not fight like fully fledged vampires, and we need to prepare before rushing headlong into this."

"I feel like this has got my name written all over it." Emmett announced to the table, his dimples on full view.

We moved apart with as much disorder in which we came, the scraping of chairs and ignition of smaller conversations that replaced the order. We seemed to follow after Emmett and his exuberance to finally put his strength to good use. There was no technicality behind the lessons, Garrett and Eleazar were kind enough to first offer their services. Simply fighting against the sometimes predictable moves of a newborn, noting what to execute, and the rule of avoiding direct head on combat, these young vampires being exponentially stronger.

Eventually duos broke away, walking through fight stances and exchanging their own worldly fight skills. In-between watching Carlisle getting unexpected hits upon my husband, I found the scrappiest fight between flashes of gold and platinum blonde. If Tanya had thought taking on Rosalie would have been easy, she had obviously neglected to realise how stubborn she was. Although experience was beginning to reign supreme, Rosalie was successful in getting in her fair share of strikes.

"Feisty." Emmett commented, dusting the dirt from his hair and standing out of harm's way.

"And men still think we are the weaker sex." I replied, watching with delight as the fight progressed with a lack of integrity. "Strong and cunning."

"A bitter memory?" Garrett said, announcing himself after his stint attempting to fight both Irina and Kate, tag teaming. He lost.

"I knew a vampire once who refused to acknowledge females as valid numbers, he used to talk over the top my head and roll his eyes when I spoke. I used to call him 'underling'. I remember once running past and ripping off his leg just to see him fall." I told, recalling the very short and poor vampiric life of Thomas.

"Did he?"

"Yes, it was brilliant. Flat on his face in the sand."

"You two have a very warped sense of humour." Emmett stated, giving us what I perceived to be an odd look.

"You were down south for quite some time?" Garrett questioned, having the mind to move as the fight before us tumbled closer.

"Six...seven years? I'm not sure if that classes as a long time, but within the space of a couple of years I went from being the youngest to possibly one of the oldest. Life expectancy was not long...somehow, most probably sheer luck, I'm still here."

"I get that there are armies of newborns, and I get the logic behind using them...but why are there armies in the south?" Emmett asked, finally taking his attention from the fight to look at us both.

"That, Em, is the question I never really understood. We presumed it was over territory, the area around Mexico City. The army closest got the rights of the human population." I retorted, coiling the ends of my hair around my index finger.

"So it's been quite a while since you've...fought in real time." Garrett summed, looking innocent as he crossed his arms.

"You pushing to find out?" I questioned, tossing my ponytail over my shoulder. "Because I haven't been idle all that time."

"I won't lie, I'm curious." Came his perfectly blithe reply, ignoring Emmett and his encouraging words and exaggerated gestures.

"Well I'm always game to quell curiosity." I acknowledged. "Rules?"

"Viable strike for decapitation is a win."

"Perfect."

"May I suggest we move a little further afield, set some boundaries? And start this before Edward realises, he takes no prisoners when it comes to you." Garrett appealed quietly; stalking away towards the outer boundaries of the house, and an avidly excited Emmett close behind. Judging my husband's attentions were taken by his own contest; now attempting to take on Eleazar, I quickly followed on.

"Right." Emmett declared, careful to keep his voice on the low. "I want a nice fair fight, no underhand tactics, no degrading language or name-calling."

"Hundred yards in the round?" I questioned, gesturing in an arch.

"Including or voiding tree lines?" My opponent countered.

"Including." I declared.

"Right, you ready little girl." Garrett cooed, flexing his fingers and beginning an oh-so-familiar predatory stance.

"Your degradation is…cute. But I've had a lot worse." I grinned, displaying my teeth for all their threatening worth.

He had a good foot on my height, well-built too. From watching his fight with Emmett I knew he was no novice, but then again neither was I. I took the offensive right away, bolting with the bluff of a newborn stampede, at the last minute sliding between his legs. He deduced my bluff before I got the chance to swing my legs around and take his out, jumping over them with swift skill and practice. I did however get my first hit against his torso, springing upwards and kicking him cleanly in the stomach. But other than pushing him back several steps, it did nothing to impact his pace.

The imbalance of my previous move gave him an amble opportunity to strike, his fist punched hard against my shoulder forcing me backwards. It was only at the last second I managed to save my body from meeting the icy ground; a lucky hand got a solid grip on the earth and I sailed haphazardly back to my feet. He came at me once again, looking for a clean strike to the neck. I knew this one.

I vouched to protect myself, crossing my arms above my head to take the brunt of the blow. But once contact as made, I delivered my own. Sharply kicking the side of his unprotected knees so they buckled.

He ducked his head just in time as my fingers brushed against the fabric of his collar, finding his feet quicker than anticipated and lunging for my own neck. Knowing I didn't have much time for anything fancy, I vouched for something a little underhand and primitive. I screamed. Pulling out a high pitched and brazen shriek as he came closer. It had a successful response, he winced, jaw muscle ticking as the note resonated against his ear drum, made only worst by the close proximity.

Before he had the chance to recover and grab my neck, I moved behind him, using the entirety of my weight to wrap one arm around his throat and posing the other in a claw ready for decapitation. I had won.

"Time has not diminished your skill." Garrett laughed, the rumble reverberating against my arm, still pressed against his throat.

I slowly unwound myself from around him, gingerly and calculating to make sure this was not a ruse. Garrett straightened himself up, fixing the lapels of his jacket and eyeing the ripped collar with something akin to humour.

"Guys." Emmett hollered. "That was impressive. I especially liked the knee kicking, I'm gunna use that one in future. And what's going on with that crazy shriek, it made my ears ring."

"Yes, sorry about that." I replied, nodding my head towards Garrett in apology. "I don't usually use such a thing, it's a little primitive. But you had me, you fight good."

"Likewise." He said.

There came a strange noise that resembled a girlish laugh, before I was almost run down by Tanya. She accosted her arms around my neck. "You kicked his ass."

"Well it was a close one." I tried to her demanding leadership.

"Nonsense." She waved off the statement, not giving Garrett any bit of the credit he deserved. At least Kate was there to give him some attention. "That foolish red haired bitch won't know what hit her." I removed bits of foliage from the ends of her hair, guessing her victory over Rosalie had put her in such a bright sunny disposition and outlook.

Along the white washed deck, most of the remaining group were congregated around the outdoor ceramic table, on its mosaic top a large topography map had been weighted down with stones. There was an on-going discussion and avid pointing. The rest of us looked on patiently, pacing and fidgeting with the pent up emotions that always accompanied an oncoming altercation. Eventually it was decided, and agreed upon, to first move out east, back to the decimated farmstead, before tracking the trails as far as we could. Should we find such a thing impossible, it would come down to advancing on as much territory as possible until we found them.

The next part was more unclear, but the outcome was simple: kill anyone who we deemed a threat. In my eyes that meant everyone.

* * *

><p><em>AN: So another chapter down, and how close we are to three hundred reviews! I hope you all liked the chapter, little bit of pre-battle fighting to set the mood. Thanks to everyone once again for their reviews, alerts and favours. _


	59. Chapter Fifty Eight: Colluctatio

_A/N: Sickness be damned, I've beaten down procrastination and managed to force out another chapter. It was not the easiest chapter to write, so many outcomes, characters to include and scenarios. But seeing as we had reached three hundred reviews (!) I think it is well deserving that I should make an effort to get it out to thank everyone. _

_Jojo657: Yeah, Laurent's managed to anger quite a few people, I think I can safely say he's not going to be- is no longer- a recurring character. Thanks for the review_

_RoseAsh9086: Thanks for such a nice review, I'll definitely keep up the writing!_

_Areej-A-A: You are so right, being sick and stuck in bed made all the difference. As for the research...another result of being incarcerated within the house. I thought it would be kind of amusing to give the slap on the head a backstory, it's going to become a regular thing. As for Garrett he is such an interesting character, I think he and Bella have an understanding, and he is definitely smart enough to attempt to avoid Edward when it came to the fight. Thanks for another review!_

_Matthias Stormcrow: I was so anxious to write this chapter, I just hope it lives up to expectations. But it was fun to write the altercation between Bella and Garrett, a friendly match before something a little more vicious. Thanks for reviewing once again. _

_CullenBoy123: I really wanted the head smack to have its own history, he is never going to escape that one. And seeing how Bella has been in the south, I wanted to have her play a little dirty, Garrett's quite a capable opponent. Hope you like the show down, thanks for reviewing. _

_viola1701e: I think this is a jodhpurs, boots and shirt kind of fight. Nothing pretty, nothing that can hinder a good scuffle. As for Emmett, he'll be within his element, taking down newborns and protecting the blonde he's enamoured with. Thanks again. _

_Holidai: I have such a soft spot for Garrett (most probably something to do with Lee Pace,) I really like the idea of him and Bella being friends. He has such a great character backstory, must be quite an efficient fighter in a sparring match. Thanks for another review._

_Sarah-A-A: I know there's not very much of the Cullen's vocally in the last chapter, but they are all very much within this one (especially Edward.) And definitely some romance in the upcoming chapters, for Bella and Edward, as well as Emmett and Rosalie! Thanks for another review, love seeing your name pop up (and I'm feeling much better now, thanks.) _

_Xxvicky2freshxX: Always happy to hear people are still enjoying, thanks so much for reviewing. _

_2DamnFunky: Thanks for reviewing. And don't worry I have no intentions of stopping!_

_celebritystar: Yeah I know, not a huge amount of Edward in the last chapter, but he's back in this one! And I promise lots of romance once this little saga is over. Thanks for the review._

_MissMartha: He's in Alaska, I know there wasn't a great deal of him in the last chapter, I was attempting to make sure I included the introduction of all the Denali's. But don't worry he's definitely in this one. Thanks for the review._

_reader346: With such a prompt from Garrett I couldn't imagine Bella allowing him to win, even if that meant using underhand tactics. But I wasn't going to make it an easy one. Thanks for reviewing._

_Green Adventurer: Welcome to the story! Reading fanfics and ignoring school, sounds just like me. Glad to know you're enjoying everything so far. Thanks for reviewing. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the right to the Twilight Saga._

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><p>Chapter Fifty Eight: Colluctatio<p>

Before exiting the house I could not help but be coerced by the temptation of a mirror, checking over my reflection, adjusting the rather plain and lax pony tail I had forced my hair into. The shorter bits around my temple didn't quite reach the pull back, and I was forced to tuck them behind my ears. Knowing there was nothing I could do to improve my appearance in any way; and knowing it would be pointless anyway; I vacated the chaotic house for the great outdoors.

Immediately spotting the one person I was after. "So this is where you're hiding." I declared, trudging down the stone steps to meet his stance by the porch spindles. "Carlisle says he will be out in a moment, he wants to listen to the weather report…but it doesn't look very nice out." Gaging the blanket of heavy looking clouds across the entirety of the sky.

"What about everyone else?" My husband questioned.

"Almost ready." I responded, pickpocketing some hair pins from his pocket. "Although it seems to be taking forever, the sooner we start, the sooner it can be over and we can go back home."

He made no heed to the pins, his pockets always had one or two at the bottom; my penchant for losing them was known. Instead he watched as I pinned back the unruly tendrils of my hair, happy to be free from the strands flying across my face.

"Will you promise me something?" He finally asked.

"Anything." I vowed, twisting the curls of my pony tail around my finger.

"Be careful."

"I always take care." I replied unperturbed, but seeing his frowning and serious face was quick to soothe away the worry. "I promise I will take extra care."

I had come to love and expect the feverish excitement that preceded the oncoming fight, the way it made my muscles twitch and mind run rampant. Yet if I was honest this time there was a much more persistent feeling, one that fought with the excitement, but was so irreversibly linked that it could not be quelled or pushed away. It was an uncomfortable sort of emotion, it crawled up your spine with prickly heat and made your chest feel heavy. Tangible fear.

It was not however unjustified. Unlike each time before, I was not running to battle with disposable soldiers, ones who could be replaced by the next poor human to cross our path. The people around me were irreplaceable, and therefore losing any one of them was unacceptable. They were family.

It came about there were two very different styles of armies. The first came in the form of individual self preservation, a selfishness that meant complete concentration when it came to engaging with the enemy. Yet should you find yourself in trouble, there was no help or aid from those around you. The second came along with the notion of group preservation, risking the engagement of your fight to keep an eye on others. But the help and aid made it a beneficial strength.

There was no account of not winning, that would not even be considered.

"Does it always snow so much?" Emmett announced as he emerged from the house, launching himself from the porch and hitting the hard ground with a thud. Never one for quiet and stealth.

"Of course it does, you dolt." Garrett replied, pulling on a long leather jacket as he stepped outside. "This is Alaska, when it snows it snows. We've yet to see any warm weather this year."

"It gets warm here?" Emmett questioned with a skeptical look, overlooking the _dolt_ comment. "Could have fooled me, I've never seen so much snow."

"Tanya said it reached a hundred degrees Fahrenheit in June fifteen." I added, enjoying the further doubtful look he brandished.

"This is one strange place." He decided. "Not only does this state have some insane weather, but you have armies of newborns running amok. I should think I would like to live here."

"This army is a one off." Edward told him, reading into something that had not been divulged to the rest of us. "It's an exception; you can't just kill every vampire you come across."

"Indeed." Garrett agreed. "Under most circumstances, other covens and nomads are quite civilized when it comes to territorial rules. It just takes one or two and we find ourselves in such a situation."

"Still, I think this will be awesome. Like hunting, but with more intelligent game." Came Emmett's strange opinion.

"Awesome, eh?" Garrett tasted the word in his mouth. "It will be more _awesome_ if we all managed to survive this." He pulled up his collar against the increasing snow fall. "Just don't go blazing into the fight like a fool. Fools are always the first to die."

"And you're paired with Rosalie, if anything should happen to her... I'll be the one dicing you to pieces." I declared, feeling much like I was scolding a petulant child.

"Don't worry, Bella." He waved away my worry. "I won't let anything happen to her." Telling me with a somewhat convincing, uncharacteristically seriousness.

"This weather however, is not going to help our cause." Edward said, wrapping his arm around my waist.

"You're not wrong." Garrett nodded, watching the flakes getting progressively heavier. "We need to get going before it covers any remaining tracks."

"Like it's not going to be hard enough." I muttered, brushing the snow from my hair and coat.

"And it's not going to get any easier, I'm afraid." Carlisle announced, he, Esme and Rosalie joining the group of congregating waiters. "The wireless forecast is not good, heavy snow storms across the Mount McKinley range."

"We're in for a tough one then." Garrett replied.

"It's against them as much as us, in both tracking and visibility." I mused, looking around at all the faces as they contemplated my words. "Sand storms were particularly good for an ambush...as long as you watched your back"

"If we located Victoria and her group before they noticed us, it would definitely give us an advantage." Carlisle nodded, catching on quickly.

"Let's just try and find them first." Garrett interjected. "Do we know how long the storm is to stay in the area?"

"The report said it should pass over by this evening." Esme retorted, her artfully pinned French braid made my hair look plain.

"Well then until we know where this group is hiding, lets keep all our plans and options open." Came Garrett's logical reply. He turned at the appearance of Eleazar, Carmen and Irina, narrowing his eyes when the last two did not appear.

"They are deciding over coats." Carmen announced, stealing and wearing Eleazar's fingerless gloves before he got a look in.

"No surprises there." Garrett muttered, rolling his topaz eyes. "Kate, hurry it up!" He yelled, patience wearing thin as it seemed we would be waiting for a good portion of our eternal lives.

"We're coming." She screeched back.

Eventually when the sisters decided upon their coat of choice, we were all assembled on the snowy outcrop. The vision we cut; although rather dark with our mirage of mismatching clothes, was quite impressive. Twelve being a much more intrusive picture than the mere number suggested. We were paired off, a buddy system to implement a further layer of protection, natural mated pairs, along with Tanya and Irina.

Then, numerous match boxes and Vesta cases on our persons, we set off east, into the thickets of pine forest and worsening snow blizzard.

Running amongst the masses of so many vampires was a strange experience, not wanting to be completely entrapped within the centre, Edward and I chose to settle for the outside. Hands still held together, and having no desire to let go.

Strangely, as predicted, the snow did get worse and thus the visibility was poor. A blanket of white burnt brightly against the eyes, soaking through jodhpurs and on the surface of thick coats.

"I'm starting to change my mind about Maine." I moaned, blinking away the persistent ice crystals from my lashes. "Let's go somewhere dry and hot."

"Well picking a destination shouldn't be too hard; I hear most of the central regions are mostly desert." He countered.

"Yes, because I would love nothing more than to honeymoon where there are sand storms." I replied sarcastically, running slightly into his frame. "Let's go someplace where there is no snow, and coats are not a necessity." A rather crude remark about clothes being a necessity became vetoed; I was rather too close to Emmett for that.

"Once this is all over we can go anywhere you like." He replied, pulling us through the thinning trees as we came closer to the familiar remains of the farm house and buildings.

"Let's go as soon as possible." I said, gripping on tightly to his arm as we came to a stop on the suddenly barren farm land.

Our success from this point only pervaded so far, through weeks worth of crossing tracks and trails we eventually picked up footfalls heading northwest. But the snow had gotten so bad, that by the time we reached the Yukon Flats there was nothing left. The boggy and water logged terrain left much to be desired.

"It is looking doubtful she has gone any further north than this, the ground only gets more saturated the more we go on. We'd have to swim at some point." Eleazar called loudly over the harsh and bitter wind that blew across the flats.

"What's south from this point?" Carlisle called back, his eyes squinting from the vicious snow gale.

"The city of Fairbanks, it's about a hundred miles." Kate announced from within the tight confounds of her large coat, giving the water around her feet an unsavoury look.

"And what's in between?" I questioned, having to raise my voice as it caught on the wind.

"The entirety of the White Mountain Range." Kate called to me.

"Sounds like it could be a prime spot to check, enough cover and access to the city's population."

"Why are we waiting then?" Tanya called loudly. "Anything is better than standing around knee deep in water." She was the first to take off, the squelch and splash of marshland behind her footfalls.

"You can put me down now." I said, still upon Edward's back, after all too eagerly clambering on when the water got deeper.

"Water is still ankle deep, you sure you want to risk it?" He replied. My weight on his back seemingly having no effect on his speed, and if I was honest without me to pull along we were traveling near the front of the group.

"I'll stay put." I decided, pressing my face against his shoulder to avoid the annoyance of freezing precipitation.

"Good." He replied. "I was merely asking out of politeness, I had no plans on putting you down. Can't loose you if you're this close."

"I would complain...but you can't get lost when we're this close." I retorted, keeping my voice low, as volume was not needed with our proximity.

"When have I ever been lost?" He said, turning is head so I could gage his skeptical look.

I shrugged. "There was that one time I lost you in Sibley's department store, I looked for you for ages."

His laugh reverberated through my body. "I was not lost, I waited for you by the exit. And you're looking was more focused on what they had to offer."

"I bought you a new coat, didn't I? And some new boots." I mumbled into his shoulder.

My contentment to surround myself within this strange niche of comfort was soon tossed away, ahead of us Garrett came to a halting stop. The eleven numbers behind quickly followed suit, silently wondering if this was yet another clue to another wild chase. How hard was it to track an army of newborns, it was turning out to be nigh on impossible.

"Human remains." Garrett affirmed, nudging the virtually whole corpse with the toe of his shoe. "There's also a trail." He gestured straight ahead with his arm.

"So they're quite close by then?" Tanya questioned, moving herself to the front of the pack. "I mean this man is still whole, no rotting, or putrification."

"We can't be sure of a time." Carlisle interjected, looking down at the remains with at least some sympathy. "The body has been in freezing conditions, time of death will be wholly inaccurate."

"We can still follow the trails, if the snow has not washed them away, then we can presume they have been recently run through." Edward answered.

"So they...are nearby then." Emmett summed from the back of the group, clearly excited by the new prospect.

"It would seem so." Eleazar replied.

"What are we waiting for?!" Irina hissed, finally deciding to break the silence to which she had deserted since we began. "Laurent is in their hands, and we're all standing here attempting to give the dead human a time of death. It's fucking stupid." She made an attempt to launch herself forward, before being rather brutally stopped by her sisters.

"Calm the fuck down." Tanya yelled at her. "You want to announce our arrival to the newborns?!"

"You are so hypocritical." She growled. "If this was any other coven member, we wouldn't just be standing around."

The silence that came from that little speech was deafening in its message, no one person could dispute over the claims because they were completely true. We were accepting to those who wished to learn our strange lifestyle, but when multiple 'slip-ups' accompanied no real drive to succeed, we could not help question motives. His apparent change of sides did not come as a shock to the masses.

Irina's face seemed to deflate at the realisation, and no one could quite look her in the eye. I struggled to see how Laurent could possibly have called himself her mate, for I had never come across such a blatant disregard of loyalty. She deserved someone better.

They released their grip upon her shoulders, trying to give her comfort but she moved away from their touch, slinking to the back to become the group recluse.

We continued onwards once again, the frustration of the long chase seemed to dissipate when the scent of vampire became tangible on the wind. It was not the ideal south-north wind, but it was in our favour. Progression from that point was decisively slow, we gained barely a mile within the next couple of minutes. But the density of the trees were perfect, the slightly sheltered side of the mountains gave us respite from the blizzard, and finally we were within audible range of their base.

Everything was perfect and within our advantage. That was until Rosalie yelled forward, notifying us Irina was missing.

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><p>It seemed when things were beginning to look promising, on track and in our favour, something came along and fucked everything up. Plans were implemented for a reason, aided success and made sure people understood what they needed to do. Our plan had been blown to pieces and buried, now consisting of following two blonde haired sisters as they chased down their wayward sibling. All heading towards a group of ferocious newborns.<p>

How foolish we had been, letting her sink to the back, giving her time to sort out her emotions. Complacency on our behalf, and an advantage of thickly planted pine trees on hers. Now we were following her tracks closer and closer to a collection of hunting cabins, and the lions den.

Two or so miles away and we could hear the sound of inhuman growls on the wind, the advantage of stealth and surprise was lost.

"Garrett." I yelled to the vampire currently dodging the closely packed trees, he looked up, nodding to signal he had indeed heard me. "Do you think we should split up? We have nothing to recommend ourselves, we have no advantage."

"Anything is good at this point." He called back, giving up with moving around the shrubbery and ploughing straight through it. We constructed a new gamble. Shoddily agreed upon within the space of minutes. The group split in two. Victoria may have known about our arrival to Alaska, however we could still use her taken attentions as a diversion for our own attack. From the west our coven would ambush.

"I imagined this to be much more kicking vampire ass, and less hiking." Emmett announced.

"Brace yourself, it's about to get a lot more interesting." Edward replied to him, nodding to the mountain ridge up ahead.

I would commend Victoria where it was due; she had picked a perfect location to hide an army. From the slightly higher ground we could see the tops of log cabins over the trees, a group of three or four surrounding a small area of open ground, perfect for camping fires. No such leisurely occupation today, our assumed guess of around seven newborns was slightly out, there looked to be around ten now.

Dressed in the remnants of their winter clothing, ragged and clotted with dried human blood and other questionable stains, the newborns hissed and roared behind their creator. The resemblance between several of them consisted with our theory they had been recruited from the same family's, some barely within the realm of adulthood.

Victoria stood brazen as ever, her flame of red hair blowing upwards in the harsh gale, the fur gilet that came so symbolic of her being, looked ragged as ever. She barely acknowledged our arrival, the cruel curl of her lip enjoying the shrieks emanating from Irina, her so called mate was dead. Victoria's new coat had once belonged to Laurent, the way she idly played with the lapels was a sadistic taunt.

A roar of absolute animosity came from Irina's throat, as she was held at bay by Garrett and Kate. The sheer force behind the noise was enough to spook the highly strung newborns, their crazed red eyes lustful for any type of kill. If Victoria honestly thought she could control such forces,she was more foolish than I thought. As soon as one began to charge they all followed suit, running passed their creators with but a glance backwards. And so like many a times before I was plunged into yet another fight.

We clashed with a beautifully deafening explosion, bodies meeting with speed and brutality. I dodged beneath the grip of quite a large male, ducking low to bolt passed his grip. Turning to see him and Emmett meeting with a rupture of strength. While everyone seemed to be involved with a counterpart, Irina only had eyes for Victoria. The fascination of their altercation was something I was unable to view, my claws caught the nearest flesh and I was bound into a fight of my own.

She was tall, much more so than I. Her willowly features made her look exponentially fragile, but the snarl that bit, and blood crusted at the corners of her mouth, said otherwise. Her thin arms attempted to strike straight for my neck, but unfortunately she failed to register my reflex, as I slammed my leg into her side. Unlike with Garrett she did falter, even more so when I delivered a second hit. Pouncing on her gangly body, I went for her neck. I struggled to make a valid sever on her neck, fighting against vicious convulsions, and her overbearing strength. She was screaming over and over, decibels that made my ears toll, piercing through the chaos around us.

A snarl of my own burst forth as my hand beat her frantic claws, I restrained her arms allowing for the most perfect opportunity to end this altercation. With sufficient force I bit down upon the rings of cartilage, tearing through the flesh and effectively stopping the unbearable dim. When enough had been severed, and her body had grown quite still, I resorted to using my hands.

But no sooner did I rise to my feet, looking for the next altercation did a force find me. The searing pain of a familiar burn clamped down upon the back of my neck, and tight arms crushed my torso.

I let out a screech of vexation, my hands reaching for the vampire causing me grief. But no matter how much I reached their bite never gave, and it was getting a little too deep for comfort. I could see from the corner of my vision, Edward was attempting to come to my aid, but he had one of his own to contend with.

The burning pain of their venom in my flesh, drove my own beastly instincts to take over. I gripped the face of the vampire on my back, finding his eyes and plunging my thumbs into the sockets. Pushing deeper and deeper until a scream of pain released my neck from his mouth. Free from his grip, I hauled the creature over my shoulder, watching out for the mouth that was so keen to bite. He was young, barely fifteen or sixteen. Baring the same willowy features as the female I had decommissioned, most probably siblings.

Before his eyes could repaired themselves, I tallied my second decapitation for the day.

Finding the vesta case in my corset and starting a fire, the smoke bellowing with a deep purple tinge as the chunks were thrown in. Their numbers were slowly diminishing, the last being rounded up and subsequently being set upon by the combined covens. I watched Emmett intercepting an armless newborn as it made its way for Rosalie, he took great pleasure in tearing it to pieces.

As I violently pushed an attempting escapee back into the awaiting arms of Garrett, a flash brazen red streaked through the corner of my eye line, tearing into the greenery of the pines. Followed swiftly by the lone figure of Irina, managing to up right herself and take after the enemy. I trusted her fighting skills to be as keen as her age, but that may not have been enough to take down such a character as Victoria and her ability.

Deeming the odds were now within our favour, and wishing to put a swift end to the life of our foe, I followed the two running females, with the hopes of ending this unfortunate situation.

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><p><em>AN: Oh I'm so glad that this chapter is done, but I suppose this is classed as part one. Thanks as always to those who reviewed, alerted or favoured. Hope you enjoyed. _


	60. Chapter Fifty Nine: Prosperitas

_A/N: Oh my goodness it is finally here, this story is celebrating its second birthday! I was hoping to have this out two days ago, but things conspired against me. I have a very large thanks to give to everyone who alerts follows the story (and me as an author.) And thanks to all those who have reviewed the story over the past two years! I started writing this story with no real experience, and hope I have come a little way in my improvements. To all those who have been with the story from the beginning you are all saintly, and to those who have joined along the way I hope you are still enjoying. _

_twilightjainalious: Sorry to keep you waiting, hope you enjoy! And thanks for reviewing._

_viola1701e: She wouldn't be Bella if she wasn't attracting some kind of trouble, and expect some more action from the heroine. Thank you for reviewing._

_CullenBoy123: Thanks for the review, always nice to hear from you. I am so very happy you liked it, it was a nervous one to publish. _

_leahmarie59: I know how much people love Edward, so he was definitely key in my mind when writing the story. And I like that it's very much within his nature to be overprotective. Hope you like part two, and thanks for reviewing once again._

_Holidai: Thanks for the great review, I am delighted that you liked it. There will definitely be some Bella, Irina tag-teaming. _

_MissMartha: Happy to hear you enjoyed. Although there is no Alice and Jasper at the moment, they are the next subplot to the story, so not much longer till they enter the scene. Thanks so much for such a great review. _

_reader34: They are not too far away in the story plot, I am trying to stick to the original timeline as closely as possible when it comes to the other characters. But not long now! Thanks for another great review._

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thanks for taking the time to review, and I'm glad to know you like the chapter._

_Guest: I hope you continue to enjoy the story, and thanks for reviewing._

_Emily Volturi: Thank you, and I hope it's worth the wait._

_Guest: I have no thoughts of stopping, hope I didn't keep you waiting too long. Thanks for the review._

_Guest: Your review has made my day, thank you so very much for such kind words.I hope you continue to enjoy. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Fifty Nine: Prosperitas<span>

April 11th 1935

No matter how fast I pushed my legs, I could not close the half mile gap between myself and Irina. Pursuing the adversary with such commitment and desire for revenge, I did not even contend myself to catch her. But as the distance between this chase and our covens began to widen, I began to question the reasoning behind by hasty departure. Further and further we ran, the miles stacking up and the panic of separation settled in.

I trampled down the shrubbery, clawing markings into the bark of passing trees, and made every attempt to make my tracks visible where the snow could not fall. Anything to identify the way in which we were heading, hoping ardently they were following close behind. Turning back now would mean leaving Irina to an uncertain fate, and how could I possibly abandon someone who I considered family.

Still we continued to run, surely passing the realms of two, three or even four miles. My mind began to turn as there seemed to be no end to this vicious run. Victoria knew Irina would follow, but, and I presumed, she had no heed that I had joined in the hunt. Logically, engaging with Irina would have been the most sensible of ideas. The odds were in her favour, a successful kill and she would be free to escape. So I failed to understand her reasoning for dragging her pursuer so far away.

That was until I began to analyse. Perhaps, just perhaps, she was not running away, she was running towards something. Something in which she could guarantee her success come an altercation with Irina. Maybe Victoria had more allies, had been smart enough to split her army in two, should an ambush threaten her plans there was another force on standby. While clever, it was notoriously risky. If the enemy attacked, a go between would run to inform the second group. But should the runner be destroyed, the second army would become virtually void of use.

With such a fearsome thought in mind, I could only hope my theory was very wrong.

We came away from the security of the valleys, now running almost diagonally along the side of the mountain. Open to the elements and the approaching thunderstorm that rumbled forebodingly on the horizon. The slippery barren terrain was difficult to pass, the bare rock bore no trees or shrubbery. We were climbing in altitude, the depths of the never ending forests unfurling themselves as far as the eye could see. This adventure was turning into sheer madness, a seemingly never ending pursuit to an unknown destination.

But when the gale began to bluster in a new direction, heading straight toward me with its almighty strength, did I finally gage the unfortunate truth, my theory may have some evidence. The distant noise of a threatened vampire traveled clearly upon the wind, the deep undertones of barks and growls making it to my ears.

There was no time for contemplations, regrets, or distance prayers to a higher force. Instead I set my self-back into a position I had rejected long ago, pretending this was Mexico and I was once again an uncivilised killer.

I hit the battle field displaying nothing but rage and a lustful desire to rip flesh to pieces, displaying only animalistic traits as I tore one newborn from Irina and caught another by the neck. "Destroy her." I managed to growl out to my blonde ally as she lunged for the red head.

Four in total. There were three newborns ahead of me and one struggling in my out held grasp. One thing was increasingly clear from the state of their shimmery red eyes, they could be no older than a day or so. Covered in the residue of their first hunt, still fresh and dripping from their mouths. It did not take long for me to see the drained corpses strewn haphazardly around the Marconi Morse code hut, no doubt hikers who had come to use the communication instruments when the weather had turned.

We had been too late to stop her newest batch of recruitments, this was not a second army, but a safe place for them to waken away from the others. The female snarling under my grip, looked a little older than the rest, darker eyes and a little more sanity within. She had obviously been tasked with keeping a close eye upon them

Grabbing more firmly beneath her chin, I forced my fingers into the hollow point just above her biting mandible. Forcing my nails into the notch and tearing it apart before she could use her superior strength against me. With a substantial gap now exposed, ripping through the throat and spinal column was simple. Her lifeless body became the perfect weapon, as I hurled the heavy weight towards the approaching newborns. Attacking as they were mildly distracted by the corpse. Three was still not a good number; better than four, but still putting my odds of a win in jeopardy.

I went for the biggest one first, a rather bulky looking female, whose hair had been turned crimson red with the copious amounts of blood clinging to the strands. The scent was enough to make my throat burn. My dodge around her frame was mediocre in success, although I managed to outwit her, the single male of the group was quick to implement himself on my person. Pouncing down and hauling me tightly to his chest, my arms trapped to my sides as he squeezed with all his strength. I could hear my rips cracking, splintering and slicing into my relatively useless organs.

Both the females; little and large, approached with a predatory glint in their eyes. Growling and hissing, spitting out blood and venom. Things were not going so well.

No matter how much I struggled against his mighty grip everything seemed futile, I could not match him on that front. With Irina implemented in some kind of vicious ground fight, and no sign of the family, I was on my own.

The male lifted me up higher, my feet now dangling midair and voiding any chance for me to respond with a leg shunt. But as the females came within striking distance, I panicked and reflectively kicked outward, striking the big one upon the chest. The force was enough that both the unsuspecting male and I were deflected to the ground, in a bid to upright himself his arm slackened around my body. The lighter hold was exactly what I required. Slipping through the gap, and grabbing his head betwixt my hands, wrenching with the entirety of my strength. The pop was satisfactory.

Four decapitations for the day.

The two females came next, offering little respite after the frankly impressive move I had just manoeuvred. Lack of praise aside, and a little giddy from such success, I vied for either one of the females this time around. Instead of evading her grip, or dodging through her rather muscular legs; to be most certainly caught by the fast hands of the smaller one, I receded away. Widening the gap and giving myself a little more room to judge the situation, the smaller female was the first to implement herself, barging passed the other with a lustful craze.

My plan for tangible success came void, when my attentions were taken by the wavering success of another fight. The sight of Victoria's talons around Irina's throat, was enough to firmly establish a bout of panic. I awkwardly forced my way passed the grip of the newborn, paying no heed to the ripping of fabric, and burn of venom as she bit through my coat and hit flesh. Bolting away from the approaching newborns to attempt to aid her.

I flew straight for our feline like foe, growling with enough animosity to resemble a rabid animal. I hated her, on par with my creator. The way she taunted, feeding Irina with terrible notions of her so called mate. She just needed to be destroyed.

And even with such an ability to recommend her, she could not survive a tag team. Although caught by the throat, Irina's grip was iron on Victoria. She could not escape my approach, or get away as my nails sliced through her neck. Her reflexes released Irina and that was all it took, the blonde tore her head off with little problem.

We rounded with the intention to destroy the last two, Irina taking on the large one with all the ferocity of her loss. But it was the sudden influx of allies from the trees that bought about their end. Too many hands all too keen to finish this. It was barely minuets until their lives came to an unruly end, there was a strange momentary pause, in which we gaged up the body count. As soon as each one had been accounted for, the silence ended and the dismemberment began.

We had to move the body parts down from the high ground, the putrid smoke given off would be like a beacon to the surrounding area, enticing human curiosity. I watch Irina carry Victoria's decapitated head down from the rocky plateau, gripping it by the red curls like a morbid battle souvenir. Her sisters attempting to keep close and offer some support.

I felt a hand touch the back of my neck, even with the gentle press the bite mark, and subsequent venom burnt. "Sorry." Edward apologised in turn to my wince.

"It's alright." I told him, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. "It will heal completely soon. What about you? Are you well?"

"I'm well." He replied, resting his chin atop my head. "Better now this is all over, and better now I know nothing's happened to you."

I held onto him a little tighter, "I didn't mean to be complacent, I promise. I just didn't realise, until I was too far gone, that she might have had a second group." We watched a little way ahead of us, where everyone stood admiring the strange hue of the fire, and certain victory over the enemy.

"I know." He responded quietly, the timbre of his voice soothing against the still harsh wind. "But I worry regardless."

"I'm sorry. I seem to make you worry over me quite frequently." I replied consciously, never mentioning quite what had transpired on the rocky outcrop.

"You know it's within my nature." He informed me, finding the slowly healing gash in my arm and giving it a sorrowful kind of look.

"No." I announced, removing my arm from his grip, and denying him the affinity to self appoint the blame. "Don't you dare." Making it by business to give him the most pointed of looks. "Not your fault. I engaged and this is a result of my doing."

"I should have-" He began.

"No." I demanded, forcing him to look me in the eyes instead of gazing at the new silvery scar. "You cannot seek to protect me all of the time, it would lead to complacency on your part, complacency leads to death, and then I should be useless without you."

"I love you." He said, burying his nose into the crook of my neck.

"I love you too." I replied, having to stretch up onto my tiptoes to embrace him. "Can ask you a question?"

"Anything." He whispered against my neck.

"Where's Emmett's coat...and shirt?"

* * *

><p>It was only when the entirety of the fuel had burnt away, and the fire began to smoulder out, that we vacated the spot and attempted back to the house. Every person hunted on the return journey, stocking back up their strength and returning eyes to acceptable shades. Although the mood that traveled back with us was mostly one of relief and contentment, beneath those emotions lay the undercurrents of trepidation. For Irina had yet to speak a word.<p>

Ignoring the pleas from both Kate and Tanya, she had been stoic since the moment we began to get rid of the bodies. Shuddering away from any form of physical contact. If Irina had honestly considered Laurent as her mate, nothing we could do or say would have been welcome. That kind of loss could not be consoled.

Feeling completely inept and awkward to even attempt to make small talk within her presence, and leaving Edward to his conversions with Eleazar and Carlisle, I hung deceitfully at the back. Managing to find myself grouped with Emmett and Rosalie; the former having borrowed Garrett's coat to cover his torso after an unfortunate tumble with a newborn. But from one awkward moment to another, it seemed from the smiles and clasped hands, I was intruding upon a rather intimate moment. The story behind this sudden decision upon feelings I would attempt to bully out of Edward at a later date.

For now, once again, I move my position, being warmly invited into the middle to run next to Esme.

"They are getting on quite well." I acknowledged, slightly nodding my head backwards.

"Indeed." Esme smiled, always ready to discuss such notions as developing relationships. "They have been inseparable since Emmett's rather heroic act."

"Do tell." I prompted quietly, holding onto her arm lightly so we could speak in private.

"Well I didn't quite see the entirety of what occurred, but I did see him quite forcefully implementing himself in front of her when a newborn came their way."

"Aww that is quite a sweet notion, she seems even more taken with him." I whispered, casting a sly glance behind. "And he still enamoured with her."

"I suppose we shouldn't interfere." Esme announced somewhat vaguely. "But I hope that they will make each other happy, she deserves someone."

I nodded in agreement, recalling just how far Rosalie had come since the first days of the change. For all intensive purposes she had become my sister, bickering, petty fights and all. For all the hardships she had faced, warranted someone to love her. It was just a shame that not everyone could be so lucky.

The moment the house finally loomed ahead, Irina shed the company around her and shut herself within the confines of hr room. Telling both her sisters to leave her be. The inability to console Irina sent Tanya into impatience agitation, and she too eventually retired to her room to be alone. A fine place to calm and collect one's self, but our flying visit was coming to an end and goodbyes were needed.

I wrapped my knuckles against the bare wood, waiting with etiquette bound rules to be invited in. So I was. Stepping across the threshold and onto the soft plush carpet, closing the door behind me with a soft click of the latch. "You alright?" I began, moving to take a seat on the corner of her bed.

She turned from the vanity, putting down the brush that had been accosting her bright locks. "I'm fine….just glad this is all over."

"Me too." I agreed, nodding my head and swinging my feet absentmindedly. "It's comforting to know we can move freely without being accosted by the likes of the insane."

She gifted me with the twisted smirk that had become so infamous with her character. "Should I even ask your head count? Your savageness becomes you." Fingers twisting back into the tendrils of her hair.

"Well I'm not one to kiss and tell-" She interrupted with a delicate snort. "But last count was four, and lets just say Vicky didn't see my hand until it was too late."

"Good." She announced with a bitter thrum. "I'm glad that bitch is dead."

"The feeling is quite mutual." I countered, fixing her with a gaze to assure her my feelings towards such a character were tinged with nothing but animosity. "She may have bore upon us minimal physical damage, but we cannot dispute the emotional."

"Hmm." She acknowledged vaguely, twisting back to the fancy spindle mirror to continue brushing out her hair. "We're going to be alright, we'll get over it and move on."

"I know you will." I replied, nodding and giving out a reassuring smile, even though she and I were facing different directions. A forced attempt to placate my own unsettle opinion on the matter. "I just wanted to let you know we are heading off, once the sun sets."

"What?" She responded disbelievingly, turning back to face me. "But you haven't even been here that long, and we haven't had a chance to catch up, or even go into the city."

"I know. But Carlisle had to take the time off as a family related emergency, they will be expecting him back by Monday." I relayed. "I'm sorry we can't stay any longer, but now this is all over we can make plans for our long overdue night out?"

Her visible disgruntlement lifted slightly at that news. "You've managed to deflect my annoyance slightly." She told me.

"How glad I am to have side stepped such an assuming barrage." I muttered, admiring the mirage of postcards and other such random oddities she had upon her wall. "Indulge me to how you have a copy of my wedding photograph?" I wondered, touching the corners of the monochrome picture, capturing the moment Edward and I had been coerced into standing for it.

"Esme." She told me. "Now about us going out, you still have the house in Toledo?"

"Yes." I nodded.

"Excellent. I was thinking we should extend our plans for more than just the one night, how about a long weekend. We can stay at the house, and work our way from Toledo to Erie." She replied very animatedly. "No boys allowed, girls only." Purring out the last words.

The thought of having to leave Edward for any extended period of time was not a pleasant one, but from the excitable and exuberant nature that had returned to her demeanour I could do nothing to turn her down. "Sounds like a plan." I said, hoping most earnestly that things were beginning to look up. Hoping that everything would be alright now the danger was gone.


	61. Chapter Sixty: Mortem Obire

_A/N: Happy second birthday! Hope you all enjoy. _

Chapter Sixty: Mortem Obire

December 3rd, 1913, New York City, The South Bronx

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It was blistering cold, the type of freezing that blew unforgivingly on the wind, and seeped through fabric to reach the bone. Skin turned a sallow gaunt grey, lips purpled into blue, and joins stiff and numb. The snow and sleet had begun to fall at the start of November, and there was no sign of it relaying. Winter had struck with an angry vengeance, littering the ground with icy precipitation.

People walked the streets wrapped tightly in whatever garments they could afford, children swaddled in animal fat and newspaper for extra insulation, on their feet sewn rags as make shift shoes. Down the slum alleyways homeless huddled around old oil drums, frantically rubbing their frost bitten hands under a warm flame.

The whole area suffered under poverty, and now even more so with the influx of a harsh and bitter winter.

From one of the many side passages, hidden away from the gaunt eyes of the Main Street, an unassuming thin man stepped down from a doorway stoop. He was pale in complexion, but his cheeks and nose were stained with a cold winter blush. A face that perhaps one could have considered handsome, had it not been for his ragged hair and tired looking eyes. His lithe body drowned in old clothes that had seen much better days, and all in all he fit in perfectly with the masses around him.

The moment he turned into Main Street, the man was battered by the elements. The cold wind blowing furiously at his figure, making his eyes water profusely. Hands were stuffed tightly into the depths of the patched up coat, anything to salvage some kind of feeling in the joints. He continued onwards, shuffling thought the snow with dragging feet. For over a mile he walked, along the pavements and sometimes the gutter when the snow was too deep.

The area of destination came with wider streets, roads that had been shovelled, now passible by carriages, pony carts and stagecoaches. Instead of ramshackle tenements and falling down dwellings, the streets were lined with small businesses and shops. Grocers, butchers, bakers, barbers. He passed groups of young girls and boys making their ways towards the cotton factories, dark circles beneath their eyes, weary, and already looking to be suffering from brown lung.

He watched them enter through the factory gates, off to risk life and limb as spinners and scavengers, for a measly ten cents a day. The man did not stop by the foreboding factory, or linger to smell the foul odours that permeated from the building, but carried on up the road toward his own destination.

He bought a newspaper for three cents at the street corner, tucking it under arm and waiting until within the warmth of work to read. It was another half a mile later that a small street side shop came into view, nestled a little way back from the other heavily advertised businesses, and down three icy steps. Taking the utmost care, he slowly took the stone steps, stepping into the warmth of the store and heading straight towards the back.

"Good morning, Mr Alberlin." He announced, hanging up his coat and hat on the hooks, and tying his designated leather apron around his waist.

"Good morning, Matthew." Replied the cheerful older gentleman, sat next to the small wooden burner. Over his leg a stretch of brown leather, being meticulously measured with a marking wheel.

The back room was a bombardment of tools of the trade; awls, burnishers, hammers and knives, the floor littered with off cuts and sawdust. Against the walls, and above the work benches, there were numerous racks of shoe moulds. The cobbler's shop smelt like musty leather and burning wood, but it came as a brilliant change against the blowing gale outside. And the young man who had stepped inside could not fathom a more comforting place.

"I've got the paper." Announced the man, named Matthew, placing the item on the workbench next to his elderly employer.

"Thank you lad." Acknowledged the man. "Mrs Alberlin's packed you a lunch, says you're far too skinny for her liking. Not much, just a bit of bread and-"

"I very grateful to you sir, please give my profound gratitude to your wife." Matthew replied politely.

The old man merely laughed gruffly. "Matthew sometimes I swear you're from another world." He continued to honour the words, "profound gratitude," with a shake of the head.

"Where's Denny?" Matthew questioned, trying to stem the attention away from himself.

"He's going to be late." Mr Aberlin announced, putting the metal tacks in his mouth, individually spitting out each one when needed. "Your front of store until then" He said between nails.

"Yes, sir." He acknowledged quietly, paling under the thought of being in the public eye, but obediently did as he was told.

From seven o'clock that morning up until ten, he was relieved to discover not a single customer enter the store. At ten o'clock a boy no older than sixteen strolled in, greeting both men with a lofty grin; a gap where a tooth should have been, the lasting effect of a past brawl. With the situation of young, charismatic Denny posted affront the store, the back was once again a safe haven from the public.

There was little talk in the workshop, just the noise of scraping and hammering as the two men set to work. Churning out the needed repairs to winter shoes, replacing worn soles, patching up holes, all cheaper alternatives to buying a new pair. They ate bread and butter lunch between stretching leather, eventually accompanied by the younger boy when the store became dead.

"How's your mother?" Mr Alberlin asked the boy.

"Alright, she hasn't been sleeping as much and says she feels better." Replied Denny, stuffing his lunch into his cheek to talk. "If she gets any worse Robert says we should call a Doctor."

"Doctor? Can you afford it?" The elderly man quizzed.

"Sarah's gone and gotten herself a job at the flax mill. So we should have enough." Denny nodded in assurance.

"I thought your sister was just a baby?" Matthew questioned quietly.

"No, she's already nine, plenty old enough. Robert went out to work for the rag picker man at seven." Said the boy.

"Good wage at the mill?" Mr Alberlin inquired, pulling out a handful of tacks from a split sole.

"Pretty good, thirteen cents a day." Exclaimed Denny, taking another large bite into his bread. "Sixteen if she makes five years with no sickness days, but mom says if Robert teaches her to read and write, she could get a job in a big house. As a maid or somethin' like that, you gotta be literate for such a job."

Denny was soon accosted from his lunch by the sound of the shop door, speaking to the customer before returning with a pickup request. A slow and steady pace of customers kept the three men busy from noon till six, the weeks of snow having made the shop far more popular than usual.

After sweeping the front of the store and setting up for the next day, the jolly Denny started in the frigid walk home. A poorly knitted scarf around his neck, a hand down coat once belonging to his elder brother, and a sack of chopped wood on his back; given to him by Mr Alberlin for the benefit of his ailing mother.

As an apprentice to his employer, Matthew set about gathering up the leather scraps, stuffing the unusable bits into a bag ready fro the rag man. While by the fire, stretching out his stiff joins under its heat, sat the older man with the newspaper over his knee. His mumbles about the lingering cold snap; reported into the broadsheet, were audible over the sweeping. He tutted over the economy pages, laughed at the caricatures, and let out a ragged sigh at the depressing articles.

"Terrible business." He muttered to himself, engaging the attention of the young man.

"What's that, Sir?" Matthew inquired, momentarily pausing his brooms movements.

"All these." He pointed directly to the article. "These poor victims having to take White Star Line to court, just to get some compensation."

"Oh." Matthew replied, eyes cast down and continuing to sweep.

"Further evidence of a large corporation and their money hungry owners." He ranted angrily. "Good on you Mrs Swan, you take those bastards for everything they're worth." He hit the printed word with his fingers. "Largest claim made, she deserves that million and much more. Poor woman."

His extravagance rave was met with nothing but strained silence, permeated by the noise of the broom bristles against the floor boards. Mr Alberlin noted; and it was not the first time, what a strange fellow his apprentice was, a quiet, polite, unassuming man. Fifteen months ago, they had crossed paths, his previous apprentice had been enticed by a job with the dairy man, and so he was in search of another. A rather bedraggled man had entered his shop, brandishing the work notice and almost begging for a job. Introducing himself as Matthew Smith, an immigrant from England who was in desperate need of a job. He appeared to be fresh from Ellis Island, having realised the prosperity that America promised was not so kind, and times were hard.

Mr Alberlin decided to give the man the benefit of the doubt, pleasantly surprised at what an intelligent and hardworking young man he was. Literate, and strikingly adept with mathematical sums, he turned out to be quite a valuable asset when it came to taxes.

But within those fifteen months, Mr Smith had revealed nothing about himself. Not that the elderly gentleman minded, privacy was underrated as a trait.

"Matthew, why don't you head off before the snow gets any worse." He gestured to the window and the snow blowing violently against the panes. "I'll finish up in here."

"Thank you." Was the meager reply he got.

"Don't forget your paper, they make great kindling." He said, offering the newspaper back into the hand of his employee. Goodness knew the thin man needed the warmth of a fire, no meat on his bones.

"Good evening, Sir." Were the last words said by Matthew as he departed into the snow storm.

"Safe journey." Came the reply.

...

The snow had gotten half a foot deeper since the early morn, and now fell minus the sleet. Picked up by the gale and swirling around the ink black sky with feverish movements, he used to like snow fall, he'd watch it fall across green pastures of home and be enraptured. Now it only brought with it the misery of cold, never being able to get proficiently warm, and constant aching muscles. His hands were calloused and cracked from work and the plummeting temperatures, but should he dare attempt to warm them by a fire, the sores would burn and sting.

Hard times, that was the phrase people used to describe their current poverty stricken situations. He had not fallen, he had crashed, collapsed, plummeted onto hard times, with only himself to blame.

Every moment he lumbered under the weight of his own self loathing, fighting an ongoing battle to merely survive each day mentally. The kindness of his employer was a guilty stab at the heart, each act the elderly man did him felt wrong. He did not deserve such things as kindness, a coward deserved nothing.

He walked the mile and a half at a lumbering pace, keeping to the roadside as not to be a burden to other people on the street. Half wishing a horse should spook and run him down, none such luck today. The dilapidated dwells of his attic tenement came into a view, and he could do nothing more than stare with gaunt blue eyes. It was a depressing sight, utter squalor, barely fit for human living. But filled with numerous families, all squashed into their designated rooms.

He swapped the paper to his right hand, thrusting the left into his corresponding pocket to find his key. Instead, his hand found something else. Something heavy. It had a bulbous carved wooden handle, he felt the sharp sting as his fingers ran across the cold metal blade. A leather striping knife. He could not reacall putting such an item within his pocket, perhaps he had mistaken his coat for his apron. Perhaps...it was no accident. Maybe a sign.

He could feel his pulse hammering in his cut finger, urging him on, giving him the answer. So into the snow he continued, a little faster paced, and for the first time is so long, eager.

Tonight he would do it, finally put an end to the torment. Take his own life, the way it should have happened, those twenty months ago. He should have perished honorably upon the deck of that ship, side by side with the other gentlemen.

So onwards he traveled, walking miles upon miles until he came to one of New York's city parks. Walking into the depths of the trees, with the hopes his body would remain undiscovered.

And it would have done. Had not that very same night a more inhuman creature come lurking from the shadows, parched for more than a beverage. Uneasily prowling around an already claimed hunting ground. George Marvin would have been successful in his suicide attempts, had there not been two vampires in the area.


	62. Chapter Sixty One: Novus

_A/N: Sorry this has taken a little longer to get out, but I am back at Uni and unfortunately the final term means deadlines and work. But I hope this extra-long chapter makes up for it. Last chapter, numero sixty, I'm sure many of you were a little bit like "what the hell?" But I promise (hopefully) this chapter will make it much clearer (if not I'll write a summary within the next one.) But think of sixty and sixty one as a new character introduction. A character who we have encountered before, one from long ago (say….chapter one.)So if you are confused I don't blame you, that was ages ago! Anyhow thanks to everyone who reviewed. _

_Holidai:_ _I'm so glad you enjoyed the fight scenes; I hope they have been interesting and exciting enough. It's also nice to hear you like Tanya, I always read stories where she is portrayed as some kind of villainous harlot, but I think she's a fascinating character, and Bella needed a no nonsense friend. I like them as a duo. Thanks so much for the continuing support, and reviews. _

_viola1701e: Well I cannot reveal my plans, but the introduction of these characters will be important in the future. And I hope I have left enough clues regarding the newborn. Thanks for reviewing! _

_Sarah-A-A: Three reviews in one, how lucky do I feel! I'm hoping this chapter will go some way to clearing up the confusion (I'll confess slightly deliberate,) but these chapters are more like character introductions, presenting those who will be important to the story at a later date. I hope you don't have your tech taken away! Especially if exams are coming up, if I don't hear from you then I wish you lots of luck with all your tests. Thanks so much for taking the time to review, and fingers crossed about you being able to keep your things. Also thanks to Areej.A.A, hope you enjoyed._

_Jojo657: I'm glad you feel sorry for him; he's not having the greatest of times. Thanks for reviewing. _

_Guest: All shall be explained within this chapter, I promise. Thanks for the review._

_Matthias Stromcrow: Thanks for taking the time to review once again, good to know you liked the chapter. And I hope you will enjoy this one. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Sixty One: Novus<span>

Sterling Forest, New York, 1913

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He was bleeding out beneath the trees. The crimson liquid spurting out at even intervals after every heartbeat, flowing down along the curve of his palms, and through the gaps between his fingers. Deep gashes implemented across both wrists, no longer stung, the mixture of freezing weather, and waning consciousness dealt with any pain. Slumped against the rough bark of a parkland tree; a long way from any of the paths, he deliriously watched the odd star clusters appear from behind the canopy and clouds, even so, barely visible because of the light pollution. Yet he was glad. To die beneath the stars as the way it should have been all those months ago.

As his vision began to blur, and the light headed fog descended with the increasing loss of blood, he began to recall the odd moments of his life. Reliving the happy days in which he had live in want of nothing, and surrounded by the support and safety of his family. But no matter how hard he tried to cling onto those memories, they fleeted and faded, being brutally replaced by the horror, the screams, and the sound of water.

He attempted to push them away, but the exhaustion and lack of blood had made everything numb. Within his own mind, he was trapped, in his last moments having to relive the very memories he wished of ardently to forget. But should this be his punishment for living when they had all perished, then so be it.

Death had begun to creep up; its darkness had a choking hold and was adamant to have its way. The sound of distant growls led him to hope animals would ravage his body; make it so no one could identify him. Selfishly, he could leave the world to believe in the notion he had died a heroic death, instead of abandoning his social standing hidden amongst the masses on a lifeboat.

The cold of _that_ night echoed within his bones long after the event had occurred, and tonight he could feel the same cold seeping in. He was too exhausted to consider, or deliberate, over the intense feeling of danger that crept up. Not even flinching when icy fingers probed along his wrists, dancing in the escaping blood. The being before him let out a strange rumble, deep and hollow.

"Such a waste." Its trilling voice stated, slightly muffled as the human vision stuck her blood covered fingers in her mouth.

He tried to tell the person to leave him be, let him die alone and in relative peace. But his lips were too numb to form words.

"A little weak, but I'm quite hungry. You'll do fine." Said the female voice, her words made little sense against the darkness of his mind. He only became mildly aware of the goings on, when an assertion of pressure to his wrists flared a bout of pain. How he wished to tell them to stop, quit attempting to stem his flowing blood, and allow him to pass.

Their fingers moved to touch his neck, tilting his head to one side, he gaged they were looking for a pulse. But nothing, not even the cold of the night and his semi-consciousness, could have prepared him for the sudden explosive agony, as something pierced through the flesh of his neck. Digging deep and tearing through skin and muscle, savaging until it found a viable source of blood. He couldn't struggle against the beast, lost within the realm of wishing to die and humanities desire to save its self.

The only viable thing was the sensation of something being drawn from his body, surrounded by a slowly gathering burning sensation, every strength leaving him. But the moment he had begun to except the sensation of his death, did it suddenly stop.

Through the hollow tunnel that surrounded every one of his senses, he could vaguely make out the sound of animalistic growls, angry voices, then terrible screeches and scraping. The smell of burning matched up perfectly with the feeling that had begun to simmer dangerously in his neck, spreading wildly down his body and to his head. The affliction was like nothing he had ever physically felt. He was sure his body was aflame, flesh melting from the bones, and blood boiling in the heat. Only ever getting hotter as the infliction moved and pulsated around his body.

Death should be swift. The mantra thundered through his mind, his body should be nothing more than ash and cinders. But nothing happened, the sweet realm of darkness in which he had been so close to succumbing to, now seem to hold itself at bay; leaving him to suffer on the cusp of vivacious and never relenting agony.

Time was not a plausible measurement to behold or followed, minutes, hours, days could have passed and he would have been none the wiser. The only distortion in pain came with a sudden jolt, the feeling of air flow battering and whistling against his ears. A bizarre feeling to which to assume he was either moving or falling. But once it had subsided the infliction only continued to grow, blistering deep within, and existing all over. Never had he felt anything such as this.

When his mind began to convulse with delirious thoughts, and flashing through the scenes of his past for added torment, something finally began to change. The flames seemed to move from his limbs, retracting slowly to the core of his torso. For the first time in an age, he could see different intensities of light beneath his eyelids, feel the crunch and damp beneath his body. Through his newly returned hearing, the sound of his thundering heart was uncomfortably loud. Unnaturally so.

The retraction of burning concentrated firmly around the centre of his chest, plundering its way into his heart and interfering with the regular beating. There came missing beats, fluttering's and different tempos. Then when no regularity remained, and the pain gave one last stabbing shot, everything came to an end.

He was quite sure he was dead.

"Oi, lad." A deep disembodied voice sounded in his ears.

Such an unexpected noise that it was enough to send the dead man lurching upright. Eyes frantically searching the wilderness for any signs of danger; he only recognised the inhuman growls as belonging to himself, when his own laboured breathing marred the noise. The sound of shifting weight drew his eyes to the figure sat most unperturbed on a rocky outcrop. Before he could stop himself the unnatural growl once again fell from his lips, and his knees buckled into some kind of grappling stance.

The man before him looked unbothered by this display of hostility, merely gazing at him with the darkest of eyes. He did not even regard the sudden change in his personality, instead could not help but stare at the strange male. Skin paler than aldehyde-tanned leather, the darkness of his eye contained what he now saw as a crimson sheen, wearing the simplest of clothing, but covered with an expensive looking tweed coat. There was a rushed, and frankly hazardous guess of age: perhaps early forties.

"Calm yourself." He unidentified man declared. "You'll find no enemy in me."

"Where am I?" Came the disorientated reply. "Did I succeed? Have I died?"

"Succeed?" The tweet wearing man mirrored, tasting the word on his lips. "I'm afraid if you planned to end your life you will be sorely disappointed, or perhaps glad. It depends upon the manner in which you view the situation. That is to say, you calm yourself down and listen for a moment."

The dead man promptly halted the hostile growls still emanating from his throat, bashfully standing upright and holding onto some dignity to his answers. "Sorry." He mumbled.

"Excellent." Nodded the man. "Now, I shall give you the explanation you want, no lies, no gimmicks. But I do not respond kindly to threats or acts of violence, so use that stiff upper lip and keep it in check."

The dead man nodded. "Please, where am I?"

"You are in New York State. Sterling Forest. Around sixty miles from where you began." Came the direct and factual reply.

"What?...Why? No…no, how did I get here?"

"I carried you here. All sixty miles. Not an easy feat with you screaming like one of those banshee's." The gruff man replied, fixing the front of his mismatching coat.

"I don't understand."

"Well of course you don't." Announced the rock dwelling figure. "It would be quite strange if you had all the answers already. You ask the questions, I give the answers, that's the way it works."

"The pain." The dead man described, touching his chest in sudden remembrance to the deafening silence. "I can't feel my heart." His hand frantically went to his neck to find that tell-tale sign of life. He found none. "Where is my heart beat? I cannot find it?" Frantic hands at his throat.

"Calm yourself." Came the answer.

"I cannot, Sir." He half growled, half cried. "I have no heartbeat, it is impossible. I should not be standing, it is against all known medical knowledge. No one can exist without the beat of their heart, it is a fundamental bodily process. I cannot exist-"

"Clamp together those running lips, and I shall put a name to your…ailment." The teacher called loudly.

"I am dead." Nodded the assured dead man, eyes wide and talking more to himself than the other figure. "Then why should I still exist in this realm? It is illogical. Some kind of limbo? A go between, neither dead or alive. Punishment."

"Enough." Shouted the older gentleman. "You are not dead, not in as much. Forget the fancy medical terminology and jargon, it is beyond the knowledge of human capabilities. They are ignorant to our existence."

"Are we spirits, ghosts, some kind of poltergeists?" Came the rather educated reply.

"No." Declared the response. "But you are thinking along the right lines?"

"I am." The assertively confused man said weakly.

"Indeed. You were bitten by…another of our kind. Someone illegally hunting upon my grounds and causing me a great deal of bother. I interrupted her attack on you, and subsequently the venom within her bite spread through your body. Hence the pain."

"Biting me. Why was she biting me?" He touched the sensitive skin just beneath his jaw line.

"For your blood." Was the blunt answer.

"Sir, I have a strange suspicion to what you are insinuating. But I'm not sure I wish to believe." He cleared his throat to dispel the lingering burn.

"Well, go on lad, declare it for the world to hear. I find announcing it out loud the best motivation for believing it."

The man who just previously had assumed himself to be dead, a ghost, or numerous other mythical creatures, had come to a final decision. He had; and still did, prided himself to be a logical and scientific thinker, who believed in hard facts rather than fanciful trivia. While once having been an law clerk, facts were key in understanding and presenting the truth in a case. But the facts within this case were more than his both his work experience and Oxford education had taught.

"I have come to the conclusion, by gaging the details you have provided me with, that we are…" he paused to envision the word within his mind, "we are vampires."

"By golly, he's got it." Trilled the other man with a mocking English accent, slapping his knee in some kind of humours exchange.

"Impossible." Said the man who was lingering on the believe he was now vampiric in nature. "What do we do?"

"Do?"

"We have to notify the authorities, they can help, find us a cure. It's scientific discovery, an unknown rank within the realms of nature." Rambled the man, the realisation of this discovery masking his original desires to end his life. Memories of the past trapped beneath his current ailment, a new discovery and a haze of change.

The gentleman, who had previously been sitting so calmly upon the rocky outcrop, suddenly stood, making him a good five or so feet above the other man. "I'm going to tell you now, and you listen well and good, no human being can ever know about our kind. Not now, not ever."

"Why not?" Came the question.

"Our kind have existed as long as there have been humans, we have managed to co-exist peacefully all that time. Only because they have remained ignorance to us. Human kind is flawed with a fear of the unknown, they believe themselves to be top of the food chain. Can you possibly imagine a reaction to such a thing? Why change something that works?"

"But surely they have some inclination, the legends, the books. Sleeping in coffins, the castles, stakes."

"All false." Declared the now taller man. "But indeed legends all evolve from some manner of truths. Before even the likes of that book…Bram Stoker's Dracula, Varney the Vampire, there were legends and myths of our kind. You see a long while ago a coven of vampires in Eastern Europe, grew complacent with their…habits. The surrounding area became frenzied with the killings, coining the term _strigoi _and starting a movement across most of Europe. So another, larger and more powerful group, implemented the laws of our kind. Failure to abide results in death."

"These laws?"

"In order for you to fully understand these laws, you must be notified of the traits in which we possess. Let us start with what I consider the most important one of all, life and death. You are a dead human, but a very much alive vampire. You will never suffer from any mortal bound ailment, you will not, and cannot die due to old age, simply because you will not age. You are immortal."

"Immortal." He repeated, unable to control the way in which his eyes drifted to both wrists. But there was no mark to behold, no mark to signal he had made an attempt on his own life. "You mean to say I cannot die, not at all?"

"Not exactly. While no mortal sickness or age can affect you, there is one way in which you can die." Said the tall man on the rocks, wondering if he should indulge the younger man with this piece of information. From the moment he had come across the changing man, and seen the cuts upon his wrists, a moral dilemma had presented itself. Should he indulge the man's whims, and put him out of his misery, or allow the change to take place. Believing wholeheartedly in the notion of second chances, he had decided to allow nature to take its course.

And now once again, he would allow such a thing to contest. "That way is by the hands of another vampire; generally through decapitation, followed by dismemberment and the burning of body." Other than gazing at his wrists, the newborn made no other signs of displeasure towards the news.

"I see." Was the only response, if he was displeased he did well to hide it.

"The second most important trait; and the one that will whole heartedly rule over your new life. Is your blood lust." Still standing on the rocky outcrop, the man considered the way in which to phrase his next bout of information. "Do you feel a burning at the back of your throat?"

The newborn nodded eagerly, putting his hands back to his neck with a desire for answers and gratification.

"Excellent. It is a sign of your need to intake, blood, as a newborn you will need to do this on a near daily basis. After a while the need to drink will diminish, until you can sufficiently survive on a biweekly intake." The military delivery and mere clinical view on human life, was enough to spike the newborn with the cold realities of this life.

"What happens when you take blood from a…human?" He struggled to differentiate himself away from mortal kind.

The older creature gave him a blank look, half tempered between uncomfortable deliberation and pity. "They have to die. If you do not take all the blood from their bodies, they will become vampires. Create too many and you are in breach of a law. It is with the utmost importance that you make sure to intake all the blood."

"You speak so callously of murder." Stated the newborn with a growl. "Have you no regards for human life, for the law?"

"This is where you shall learn a lesson most horrid." Replied the second man with a stern tenor. "For you must understand we need to feed, it is within our nature to drink blood. You cannot abstain, or starve yourself, the repercussions would be detrimental. You would eventually lose all coherent thought processes and recede into mere instincts, running towards the nearest food source and drink until you were satisfied. Regardless to anything in your way. And last and probably the most detrimental of lessons, you are no longer under the control of mortal laws."

"Are you saying we are above the law?"

"Yes." Came the blunt reply. "But that is not to say you have to disregard every human law. For while they contest murder, they do not think twice about killing those who have sinned, are we not doing them a favour?"

The newborn attempted to think over the moral dilemma before him, but the burn in the back of his throat seemed to grow ever bigger. His ability to be rational seemed to diminish, and desires towards something to quench the thirst took over. "It burns." He coughed.

"Let us eat."

* * *

><p>"Better?" Questioned the man in tweed, his eyes now a brilliant crimson.<p>

Not trusting his voice, the newborn merely nodded his head. Far too embroidered within the events that had just happened to collect together a coherent answer. He had barely noted the humans beneath the underpass, before his teeth were imbedded in their necks, and the burn was being satisfied. The guilt of taking life, was strongly mixed with the sheer thrill of his new found abilities.

Able to run faster than any human vehicle, strength that surely could not be rivalled by anything, and skin tougher than anything known. And for a while he was able to forget the reasons for getting into this situation, and just exist within the strange and bizarre situation.

"I feel we have missed a step within our introductions." Said the older man, his person bearing no example of the hunt they had just partaken in. "In fact, I'm quite sure we missed it out altogether. So allow me to remedy that. I am called Elias."

"Pleasure." Came the rather distracted reply, as the newborn struggled to come up with his own name. He knew of two. The first had been his true birth name, the name in which his parents had bestowed upon him. But that came the sully of the circumstances surrounding his death, and the pain of losing everything he had ever cared for. The second name; Mathew Smith, was false, coined up to protect himself from the prying eyes of society, and allow him to attempt another life. But that name was a lie. According to the vampire named Elias, he no longer conformed to human laws, so perhaps he was free from the harsh and judging gaze of society. "George." He stated quickly and firmly. "My name is George." He told the truth.

"Well, George, now you are rightly settled within your hunger, we must discuss the more pressing matters of vampire law." Elias stated, finishing his run within the familiar clearing and taking his position back on the rocks. George was left will little choice but to stand beneath, and stare upwards like solicitor to the magistrate. "It is the duty of every vampire sire to instil the laws upon every new vampire, if the newborn does not comply they must be destroyed. Seeing as your sire…is indisposed, I shall inform you."

George nodded, almost quite numb to the amount of truly frightful information he had been forced to intake. Overlooking the fact, Elias had just threatened death upon him.

"Excellent." Announced Elias once again, fabricating himself a catching phrase. "Rule number one, a vampire must never purposefully reveal themselves to a human. If such a thing should take place, _that_ human; or subsequent humans, must be changed or destroyed. Understand?"

"Yes." Was the simple response.

"Rule number two, it is illegal to create a large group of newborns with the intent to be used in a war like scenario."

"_That_ has happened?"

"My dear boy, _that_ is happening as we speak. Therefore a warning, and a tad bit of advice, think very carefully before traveling through the states bordering Mexico, and Mexico itself. The deserts are rife with groups fighting over the territories, a very unpleasant place to be."

"Noted."

"Rule number three, no vampire must ever create an immortal child. Since they cannot be controlled, and remain a great threat our kind, not to mention the thought of introducing a child to this life is villainous."

"They have…inflicted children to such pain?" George said with a disbelieving shake of the head.

Elias nodded in a grave manner, "I believe there was once even speak of a plague of immortal children who ravished Western Europe around eight or nine hundred years ago. They were destroyed and the law created."

"Who creates these laws?" George questioned, considering perhaps the vampire world was a lot more civilized than first thought.

"I shall get to that momentarily." Elias announced, lording himself over the clearing. "Rule number four, and the rule that starts most conflicts than any other. The rule regarding territory, and territorial disputes."

"Should I be noting this down?"

Elias tapped his forehead in an unhelpful gesture, but did not elaborate. "Upon entering a territory to hunt, you must make sure the area is not already occupied by other vampires. If it is, move on, or approach them to discuss boundaries. Best advice I can give you is to move on. If you approach onto an occupied territory and hunt their stocks, they have every right to attack. By law you are declared 'fair game' and that means it is a lawful kill. Same goes for causing trouble within an occupied area."

"So…vampires tend to move around?"

"Most do, they like to live a nomadic lifestyle. But others, mostly larger covens will settle into an area. I, myself, have stayed around the city for several years, the food is bountiful and adventure is rife. There is, however, one coven who have permanent residency in Italy, and have had for some three millennia."

"Three millennia?!"

"Indeed." Elias gruffed, enjoying the look of disbelief far more than he should have. "And it's that very coven who have devised the laws, they are known simply as The Volturi, in reference to the town of Volterra in which they live."

"Have you ever met them?"

"No. And I hope I never shall, for the Volturi are only seen out when there is trouble afoot. They comprise of three leaders, and surrounding them, for both defensive and offensive reasons, are the guard. I mentioned some vampires having gifts."

George nodded.

"The Volturi leaders horde and collect those with the most useful gifts, train them and use them as a fighting force."

"They sound more like tyrants than law keepers."

"Ha." Elias barked loudly. "Maybe…maybe, but they have kept our kind safe for this long, and allow us to go about our ways as long as we keep to the rules. I believe human governments are a lot more intrusive."

George refrained from adding society to that comment, and tried to distance himself from thinking about such things. Even with the past returning at a sluggish and foggy rate, memories surrounding the terrible night at sea came back with the all the force of sheer horror.

"What do I do now?" He asked the older vampire, distracting himself with the pressing question.

"You may do whatever you want." Elias replied, picking the imaginary lint from his fine coat. "It is a sire's job to inform every newborn about the rules, but that is all that is required. You may leave if you wish."

His rapid newborn mind panicked. "Where should I go?" George stated in a jumble of barely coherent words. "What should I do?"

"Alright, alright. Calm yourself before a stupor." Waved Elias, stepping down from the rocking outcrop to gage a look at the prattling English man. "You're not too bad in nature, quite calm for a new one. Seeing as I have gone and killed your sire; and I am a man of good intentions, I will extend an invitation for you to stay. But any funny business and I'll revoke it. Understand."

"Yes, Sir." Affirmed George.

"And stop calling me Sir; this isn't one of those posh society shindigs." Elias called half-heartedly, concentrating too much on the next port of call to see his new found acquaintance violently shudder.

George watched the silver haired man make mutterings, attempting to decide the course in which they should travel. And for the first time since waking up he began to consider if he could exist within this strange mythical niche, when just days ago he had attempted to take his own life. He had not been the most intelligent, handsome or bravest of men. History would only remember him as the soon to husband of the beautiful aristocratic heiress, a fleeting mention when discussing her all too tragic death.

It had all been far too good to be true, being handed such a future, the career that would see his economic status rise beyond anything he could ever manage. And to be engaged to one of societies most watched bachelorettes, a woman he would have never have been able to approach, let alone speak to, had the arrangement not come along.

So what would society say when he announced himself alive, when his fiancée, his parents, and father-in-law had all met their ends. He would be blacklisted, slandered and called a coward. Just look what they had done to Mr Ismay, his reputation was beyond repair. He knew himself to be a coward, but he selfishly wished for British society, the world, to thinking he had died a hero.

The idea of no longer being human put a physical separation between _that_ George, and the new one. And maybe, taking away those sinful and immoral humans from the world could go some way towards settling his own moral debts.

"North east, we are heading north east." Elias announced.

* * *

><p><em>AN: And so begins the adventures of Elias and George, who will be making an appearance later on in the story. I wonder if people have figured out who poor George is? Onwards to chapter sixty two and we are back to the Cullens._

_Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy. _


	63. Chapter Sixty Two: Eo Ire Itum

_A/N: Time is passing far too quickly, and my hope to have this out in under a week is as dead as my dissertation. But onto more happy topics, I'm so glad the last chapter made everything a little more clear. And for those who haven't yet figured it out (I don't blame you because George made his first appearance in Chapter one, which was two years ago.) George is indeed Bella's fiancé; he has survived the sinking and returned. And although we leave him now, he will be making a return! So a big thanks to all those who have and are continuing to review, those who have put the story on alert or favoured it. _

_Holidai: Glad to hear you liked the chapter! Although it isn't George Orwell, I think that he would make a great vampire; I wonder how his novels would have read from an immortal point of view. I better stop before you start to give me ideas! As for the George in the story, he's no great English novelist, but the reoccurring character from chapter one, I'm not sure if I should just tell you seeing as you like a surprise...but I suppose I've gone and ruined said surprise by announcing it in the author's note...oh well. Thanks for another great review, and hope you continue to enjoy._

_Sarah-A-A: I'm so relieved the last chapter wasn't as confusing as the previous, and yes you got it right! George has indeed made a comeback, and he shall be back at another point in the story. I was very jealous to hear you have a day off because of rain, I wish we did that here; I would never have to go to Uni. Although I am enjoying a spell of rather warm weather at the moment, perhaps we swapped? Happy to know you can keep your laptop and iPod, I'd be lost without mine. And thanks for the luck; I'm going to need it with my procrastination habits. Thanks very much for another review, and I love a good ramble._

_Alexitacanada: Thanks for reviewing; I'm not quite sure how to respond...did you mean theoretically? Perhaps I'm over thinking it. I'll just thank you twice, nice to hear from you and I hope you continue to enjoy. _

_Areej.A.A: Well thank you so much in advance for reviewing and staying up late to write me one! And indeed you are completely right about George being Bella's old fiancé. I can honestly say that unless I am struck down by an unfortunate ailment, I shall not give up on this story. I have read so many fantastic stories that had suddenly stopped and never again updated, and it is so disappointing every time. I didn't quite plan this story to be so long, or for it to have so many reviews, alerts and such, but with so many I can't just stop and give up. This story will have an end, I write it alongside my thesis project and it keeps me going when Uni work becomes too much. An even if a serious ailment does befall me, I will probably keep going. Hope my ramble quells your queries. And thanks again for the review! _

_Jojo657: I'm ready to write, so I hope you enjoy life back with the Cullen's. Thanks for the review. _

_viola1701e: Have you been reading my plot book? I swear you have just stated a synopsis I jotted down as a possible plan for the future. And indeed they shall be meeting up and joining the main plot later on, as for the singles...well I'm going to keep that a secret. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you continue to enjoy._

_celebritystar: Got it in one! George is Bell's old fiancé, still living-ish and he will be returning later on. Thanks for another review._

_BadassEri90: Always nice to hear such things, I felt a little plot twist was in order. As I re-edited over the first chapter, and developed George's character I wondered perhaps if he could make a return...got a little besotted with the idea, and low and behold he made his return. I am absolutely elated to know you like this little twist, and your comments are so very kind: I fear I'm sporting a very goofy smile. I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long. Thanks so much for the great review, always nice to hear from you._

_CullenBoy123: Yes George is Bella's fiancé; he has managed to survive one great disaster only to be saved from death a second time. Enough life experience to write memoirs. Thanks for the review. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thanks for reviewing, as always I hope you enjoyed the last and enjoy this one. _

_leahmarie59: Good to know you like the idea of George making a comeback, he will make his return later on and it is in my plan for him to be key in the plot line with Bella's memories. I shan't divulge too much, mostly because I've yet to decide how it's going to play out. I'm not sure how many chapters this story is going to be, but I'd hazard a guess we're maybe just over the half-way point. So a while to go yet. And seeing as my writing never seems to stick to the plans, your guess is as good as mine. Thanks for reviewing._

_Guest: Thanks for the review, good to hear you liked the little twist in the story._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

* * *

><p>Chapter Sixty Two: Eo Ire Itum<p>

Tuesday, 16th April 1935, Waynesville, North Carolina

For three days, and three nights, the rain had lashed violently against the house. The gale blowing it left, right, sometimes even upwards against the panes. But it was not the sort of delightful wet weather one could run and frolic about in, the brown rain was dirty. From the great _dust bowls _within the central states, the blizzards of 'Black Sunday' had lifted up huge barrages of soil, carrying it upon the wind and dropping it haphazardly in every direction.

The great plumes and growing static within the atmosphere brought about the rain, the soil debris mixing within the droplets and falling as dirty precipitation.

My foolhardiness in hunting without a coat had been a mistake, for I had left the house sporting a dusty blue blouse, and returned with it dyed and soaked with the reddish brown rain. Being outside in such weather was an abomination; one could not leave the house without returning covered in dirt.

Even the likes of the normally sturdy Packard could not cope, so choked up with dust that it would not run. And so we were forced to deal with just the one car. The new Chevrolet Standard Six; purchased after the timely death of the Ford, it was not as handsome, fast, or spacious as the Packard, but its sturdy nature meant its ability to deal with rambunctious dirt rain was second to none.

But Carlisle had an occupation, an occupation within the city that required the use of _said_ car, so the rest of us were forced to stay within the house and entertain ourselves. And the plans I had made for; an albeit late, honeymoon had been postponed until the storms had passed, and Rosalie had managed to fix the Packard.

Upon the coffee table; ladened with sheets of newspaper to protect the antique wood, the carburettor sat in tiny pieces. Rosalie attempting most carefully to remove the dust traces from the components, her progress only hindered by the number of questions being asked by Emmett. Having never owned a motorcar in his human life, his fascination was paramount, and heavily influenced by the fact Rosalie was involved. Be it anyone else asking such a barrage of questions I was sure she would have resorted to snarky retaliation, but with Emmett she showed a level of patience I had never seen within her character.

I was rooting for them as a couple.

"Should I take your wistful rain gazing as a bad sign?" Rosalie questioned, blowing lightly upon one of the vents.

"Don't even speak of it." I moaned, stretching out my legs along the bay window seat. The newspapers economy forecasts balancing precariously on my knees.

"Does that mean you're done with the paper?" Emmett questioned.

"Yes, why you want to help me predict the stock market?" I replied.

"Nah." He waved with an uninteresting hand. "But toss the sport section over; I need to know how my Braves are doing."

"Em, if they were doing well I would have invested in them myself." I teased, throwing him the newspaper. "At least with the Yankee's I know my money is well placed, and the likelihood of a returning profit increases each season."

"Argh, Bella you are funding the enemy." He responded with a ridiculous amount of distaste. "Carlisle even said something about you having investments in airplanes?"

"Indeed I do." I retorted rather excitedly over my prized overseas business deal. "Last year I bought shares in the Bristol Aeroplane Company; they started up about twenty five years ago, but were looking for backing for their new projects. It sounded fascinating so I bought it at thirteen per-cent."

"We're talking real flying planes?"

"Yes, do you want to see some of the plans?" I inquired, swing my legs over the side.

"Of an unnatural flying machine… Do you have to ask?"

I took to the floor with the intention of retrieving the blue prints, knowing them to be stored in an armoury chest in the library. The old casket had seen better days, but it was still sturdy and did its job. I rummaged around the numerous papers, documents, and other such oddities, until I found the tell-tale blue prints I was after. But at the very bottom of the chest another item caught my attention, sat between a split in the wood and almost unseen.

I grappled for it, pulling it free from its hiding place and wondering how it came to live in such a place. Other than a thin layer of dust having developed over it, my old ring remained in pristine condition. I polished the stones upon my sleeve, removing the filth and reliving its garish beauty.

It still did not entice.

The ones currently on my left hand, made the old one pale in comparison. But how nostalgic it made me feel. Once upon a time I treasured the item above all else, the only link I had to the past. Yet it had come to remain lost within an old trunk, never passing my thoughts and never missed. Priorities had changed.

I considered perhaps putting it back within the trunk, allowing it to fall into its little crack and stay where it had been lost. But I suppose now I knew where it was…it was no longer lost. So I choose to do the sensible thing, stowing it away within the safety of the attic. Past the Volturi portrait, and the mass of things from the last house that did not quite fit in the new one, I unlocked the combination safe and put it amongst the other jewellery of my collection.

It would stay there until I found need for it, if ever.

I could no longer dwell over the ring for Emmett had taken that moment to announce his exclamations, and for me to hurry up with the plans. Down the stairs I juggled the armful of cylindrical drawings, stopping midway to hold them tighter to my chest. It was upon passing across the entrance hall towards the parlour room that two members of the family decided to make their entrance. Sweeping into the house with the blowing gale, and sending two of the graphical designs sailing to the checkerboard floor. The door was closed with ample haste in an attempt to keep out the dirty rain.

I would have laughed at the vision of Esme and Edward, looking quite dismayed with their newly dyed clothes, had not the very same thing have happened to me upon my previous hunt.

"There is hot water, and the clean towels are back in the linen closet." I reported to them both, reassembling all the plans once again. Forgoing my usual eager greeting towards my husband until he got clean, from the roll of his eyes I gaged he understood my pettiness for dirt.

"Thank you, Isabella." Esme replied, shedding her leather boots before taking the upmost care when crossing the carpet runners.

"Good hunt?" I questioned, resorting to the age old pointless but socially acceptable vampire question.

"As well as can be expected in such weather, I think even the animals have given up." Edward replied, setting down his boots on some pre-laid newspaper.

"Put your clothes in the laundry basket, I'll wash them along with mine." I declared watching him peel away his soaking coat. "And there is a coat rack in the utility room; you can hang it in there to dry."

"Maine is looking more and more appealing." He responded, wiping the water from his eyes.

"If it's any consolation, the wireless says the storms should pass over soon. And Rosalie's making light work on the carburettor." I reported, sharing the good news that was dragging me through the day.

"Bella, hurry up I want to see the pictures." Emmett yelled over our conversation.

"One minute." I called back, holding on tightly to rolls of paper as they shifted in my arms.

"Carlisle wanted to discuss looking for a house in the area." Edward announced, doing well to ignore Emmett's loud insistences. ""He's adamant to declare it was only if we had time, and not to go out of our way. I told him there was no problem with us taking a look while we were up in the area."

"Course not." I agreed. "There's no point trailing all that distance twice. Plus I like looking around houses, so it's no bother to me. Now go get clean, you're making puddles on the floor." I shooed him away as best I could with my preoccupied arms.

While he departed with a mission to get rid of the remnants of his hunt, I returned to my own original task, and serving the impatient newborn with my bounty. Onto the brocade fabric fainting couch, I released my armful. Standing rather proudly over them and gesturing broadly. "Take a look Mr Impatient."

"Bout time." Emmett replied, grabbing the nearest one and unfurling it within his large arm span. "Capital." He exclaimed.

"That's the Bristol M.1, pretty neat for nineteen sixteen." I replied, looking over his broad shoulder.

"How did you get a hold of that one? I thought you only brought in last year." Rosalie questioned, nodding head to signal she had indeed seen the blue-print Emmett was brandishing at her.

"Back catalogue." I replied, shuffling through the other to find the latest one. "I'm the third largest investor, I asked, they sent."

"It's hard to imagine these things flying, they don't look very sturdy. But I should like to fly in one." Emmett nodded, bringing the plans closer to his eyes as if simulating an inspection of the fine print.

"We'll I'm quite content to stay grounded." Rosalie retorted, throwing a lock of blonde hair behind her. "There is something disconcerting and...unnatural about flying."

"Come on Rose, where is your sense of adventure." Emmett exclaimed, eagerly taking the next print from me.

"This is the latest one, The Bristol Blenheim. It's still within the testing stages, but production starts in August." I informed, internally astonished that there was no retaliation on the nickname. I attempted several times to catch her gaze, but she had suddenly become completely focused on screwing back together the components.

"Now this is impressive." Emmett nodded, tipping the plans this way and that. "How fast can it fly?"

"Top speed is four hundred and twenty eight kilometres an hour, with a range of just over a thousand miles." I explained, falling haphazardly into the plush armchair by the hearth. "I could get to Maine a lot quicker with one of those."

"Bit impatience there, Bella?" Emmett chortled, making some weird eye brow insinuation.

"Sweetie, I've never been the most patience person to begin with, and I've been waiting nearly two years for this. I'm beyond impatience." I told him, unbraiding my hair and running my hands through the still damp curls. "I will have my honeymoon, even if I have to run to Maine."

"Well that's a tad unnecessary." Rosalie commented. "I've finished with the carburettor, it was just the vents and fuel injector that needed cleaning."

"I have very little idea about car components." I stated, leaning forward in my seat to regard the mix of wired and frankly uninteresting parts. "I'll take your word for it. And thank you Rosalie, you are a saint."

"It's fine." She replied in a nonplussed manner that I could have mistaken for embarrassment.

"Rose has got talent when it comes to fixing cars." Emmett declared with an unarguable nod.

"Indeed." I agreed wholeheartedly, biting my cheek to withhold a smile. "I was thinking, seeing as there are six of us now, we could consider getting another car."

"What kind of car?" Rosalie questioned, her eyes narrowing in wait.

I shrugged. "Well seeing as Esme and I picked the Packard, and you have quite a bit of insight into specification, rather than picking it for colour and upholstery options. You could take a look."

She mulled the idea over in her mind. "Alright." Eventually agreeing. "I can pick up a copy of Cram Report when I'm next in town." She stood from her kneeling position at the coffee table, carburettor in one hand and dusting her trousers with the other. "I'll go fix this in, see if it will revive itself."

"I have the upmost faith in your skills, so I'm going to go start packing." I decided, watching bemused as Emmett make the arduous decision as to whether follow Rosalie, or stay in the house. He chose the former without so much as considerate thought. I gave her my best and brilliantly perfected sly smirk; her attempts to play uninterested towards his advances were comically sweet.

After dumping the blue-prints back in their chest, I watched from the bedroom window as Emmett accosted Rosalie over the small lake in the driveway, picking her up and saving her shoes from the water. She may have rolled her eyes, but the smile upon her face betray something else.

"That is a very calculating gaze you're displaying, love." Edward told me as he came from the enjoining ensuite, running his hand through his damp hair.

"I don't know what you mean." I feinted innocence, leaning on hand to further gaze intently at the landscape below. "I'm merely enjoying the rain."

"The rain you previously referred to as- and I shall quote you here- a terrible and satanic abomination." He replied, standing directly behind me and stooping slightly to match my line of sight. "Still looks like a satanic abomination. But your feelings towards it have changed."

"Fine." I sighed with a roll of my eyes. "I hate the rain, it's still very terrible. But Rosalie and Emmett are so very sweet, I cannot help but quell my curiosity."

"Isn't that what killed the cat?" He muttered.

"I wonder if Tarquin is still alive? We shall have to seek him out when we visit Toledo." I commented, entranced by the drizzle falling up the panes.

"You mean the cat that was all too happy to be given away, I swear I saw relief in his eyes."

"Nonsense." I said, moving passed him to begin shifting through my clothes for packing. "He may not have been the most adept of hunters, but we had an understanding."

"He left a dead bird in my shoe." Edward announced with deadpan delivery.

"A sign of affection." I tried, shifting through the tightly packed rail of my garments, Edward having been designated less than a quarter and bottom two draws in the chest. "Or retaliation for when you took his designated chair."

"A chair for people." Edward clarified. "He had a perfectly good cat bed."

"Yes but that chair was by the fire, and he had been living with me for the longest. So technically you were approaching on his territory." I explained, throwing several items onto the bed.

"So I ranked below the cat in the house hierarchy?" He questioned.

"Well kind of, but it's any consolation you were top of my list...below myself, but still outranking the cat." I jested, tossing a dress behind me to join the growing pile.

"I'm going to refrain from commenting." He replied, picking up a dress that had missed the bed. "And instead ask- in a very disappointing tone- why so many clothes?"

"Because I like to have options." I declared. "So pack something nice, we can venture into Bangor for a couple of days. I passed through as a newborn, and I'd like to revisit now I'm a little more...civilised."

"Very well. But aren't we proceeding over plans, when we've yet to find a place to stay." He wondered, not missing one step when I overzealously threw a pair of Selby shoes at him.

"Can't we just find somewhere when we get there?" I asked dumbly, sitting up right from my kneel.

"Like a...hotel?" He questioned with a clear distaste.

I cackled at that. "You honestly think we would be allowed to stay in a hotel? Other that the fact I have no desire to be that close to humans, do you not recall what happened to the old bed?"

"You mean the one we...broke?" He smirked.

"I'm not paying a room charge because of broken furniture...or-"

"Dents in the wall."

"Or dents in the wall, so we will just have to be...resourceful about accommodation." I summed, having a fight with my hair as it caught on the button on my blouse. "We have fake passports and documents, a bounty of money, and when I look sad people pity me, I'm sure we can find a place to stay."

"Ah." He stated with an all-knowing nod. "The sad look."

"You mock it yet how do you think I got into the Killarney Yacht Club without an invite? Those men were the definition of gullible…Do you want to take your dress shoes?"

"I commend your ability to confuse the local mob, can we try to have a gangster free trip. And seeing as you have packed your best dress, I would feel underdressed without them." He replied, taking the initiative and deciding upon his own clothes before I had a hand in picking them.

"I make no promises about the gangsters." I decided.

* * *

><p>"Was work eventful?" I questioned, drifting into the predictable space that Carlisle often frequented after work. "Did you save many lives and cure aliments?"<p>

"Unfortunately not today." Carlisle replied, taking his journals from his bag and placing them back upon their designated shelf space. "The morgue pathologist was unable to make it into the hospital due to the storms, seeing as my previous recommendation came from such a field I was placed down in the basement for the day."

"I feel the appropriate condolences should be given, but my morbid curiosity speaks only of jealousy." I replied, staying close to the threshold.

"Well I'm afraid my report shall disappoint once again, for other than death by natural causes, and an emphysema victim, there has been nothing immensely interesting to share. However I hope I have quelled your jealousy, for nothing of great interest passed my way. " He chuckled, stowing away the leather medical bag.

"It shall have to do." I nodded with a feigned seriousness. "But enough of my small talk, what was it you needed me for?"

"You know I am always partial for talk, no matter how small." He corrected. "But I have something for you." From the pocket of his waistcoat he pulled out a letter. The curvature of the lettering, and floral pattern around the edges of the envelope, identified the sender as Tanya. "This along with Eleazar's-" He gestured to the other letter on his desk. – "were waiting in our pigeon hole."

"That was…quick." I commented, taking my designated letter from him. "Maybe Tanya has given up on technology. Do you mind if I?" I brandished the letter.

"Of course not. Go right ahead. In fact I shall go round up those housing specs while you read." He vacated the room, leaving me to read.

_Dear B,_

_I'm sure thanks has been divulged greatly in Eleazar's correspondence, but just in case that seemed general and a slight bore; for his letters are of general good will and thanks, I'll put my own in. I'm not one for gushing notes of emotion, as you well know, an attribute we both share and understand. But I will however be honest, and state bluntly with no arguments we are in your debt. _

_You may wish to shake your head and frown, and I presume you are doing so right now, but understand in all the time I have been alive- and please no age jokes- I lived with my coven in isolation, and come to the understanding that we are selfish beings with only the interests of ourselves at the forefront of our thoughts. And for the part that has been true, for alliances have been made before, ones that have left nothing but bitter disappointment in their wake. _

_Before I ramble on with words I cannot speak aloud, I only wish to declare the alliance between our two covens is of the greatest kind. _

_So in short should a lunatic come a raging, you know where to look for help._

_I shall not lie or make with good words, for we are past such niceties, Irina is not dealing with the repercussions well. But we have been dealt with the blow of loss before and survived. So we can, and will get over this. That is all I have to say upon the matter. _

_Now over with such bazaar sentimental words. I suspect once you receive this you are either away on your trip or planning it and it's about time, two years is far too long to wait for time alone. Not that you have abstained from...sexual gratification. (Are you proud I put it so gentile?) Hope you have an excellent time, and try not to destroy any more furniture, or dry wall. _

_And when things are better here, we shall finally have our long awaited weekend away, sans boys. _

_Your thankful and gentile relation_

_Tanya_

The letter in my hands had successfully sent me through a range of emotions, and although the beginning were words I never expected to pass through her lips, it read and sounded her voice. I knew her well enough to read between the lines, to understand the blithe way she spoke of Irina was a fraction of the truth. And perhaps coming back so soon was, if nothing, a mistake. Maybe we should have stayed longer, maybe they did need more help.

But it was a two sided coin, for maybe they needed time to recuperate within the closeness of their coven, without us hovering. People overcame unfortunate situations within the safety of their unit, and although we could not return at the moment, we would deal out comforts and reassurance from afar. Letting them know that should they ask, we would come running once again.

I folded over the top part of the letter, allowing my eyes to only read the bottom words and the return of a familiar Tanya. Revelling in the humours scorn, and indeed prideful of her gentile attempts to overcome vulgarity. The pause between her decided words had been marked with a blot, I could almost hear the words she had second guessed, indeed something terribly vulgar that made me smile.

"Good news?" Carlisle questioned, sweeping into the room.

"Through Tanya's usual lofty correspondence I think things are…fragile." I replied hesitantly.

He nodded in contemplation. "Eleazar hinted towards some fragility in the house, but I suppose it is to be expected considering the situation. For now we can only continue our frequent contact, and should anything change for the worst we offer ourselves again."

"I thought the same." I responded morosely.

"Now." Carlisle clapped suddenly. "We can only aid when it is required, so let's not dwell over such matters. You have a trip to depart for, and I shan't see it held up again. Are you all packed?"

"Yes, Edward's putting them in the car." I nodded, straightening out the non-existent creases upon my belted dress and pulling compulsively at the bow about my bust.

"Then we best get you away before this break in the weather comes to an end." He replied, gesturing towards the door and guiding us towards farewells with the family.

* * *

><p><em>AN: It feels good writing about the Cullen's again, I've missed the somewhat normality of their immortality. I am tremendously happy to get to write about the adventures of Bella and Edward on their trip to Maine, because they are unlikely to have a trip without a little incident. Hope you enjoyed. _


	64. Chapter Sixty Three: Iter itineris

_A/N: So another week has passed by all too quickly, deadlines are approaching like a swarm of flesh flies to a corpse, and the weather is once again predictably British and terrible. That is as exciting as it gets for the moment. Between spilling nail varnish on my keyboard, and obsessively listening to The Great Gatsby soundtrack, I've managed to sit and bash this out. So a big thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted and favoured the last chapter. Love getting any type of notification regarding this story, and it's always nice to hear from everyone. _

_viola1701e: You are so very right, the very thought of them not getting into some kind of trouble is preposterous. With Bella's talent for attracting danger, I'm sure Edward will be busy attempting to be the hero. Thanks for reviewing and I hope you enjoy._

_Matthias Stormcrow: Glad you liked the last one, I was afraid it would be a little timid after the whole Victoria fiasco. But I suppose not every chapter can be so action packed. Thanks for reviewing once again!_

_CullenBoy123: Thank you for reviewing. I'm so happy to be writing their honeymoon, it seems like a long time coming. I fear I've become almost as impatient as Bella to have them go. Hope you enjoy the first part. _

_Holidai: Thank you so much for such a nice review, you have really made my week. I'm trying so very hard to make this as historically accurate as possible, and I love including lots of little details, sometimes I get so carried away with my research. I'm really happy to hear that you like the relationship between Bella and Edward; I love a good romance story, but I think sometimes we can become wrapped up in all niceties. For as well as being in love they are best friends, and friends have a tendency to bicker and banter. I'm no romance writer but I have tried really hard to make it as realistic as possible, so thank you so very much for understanding. It's a relief. And as for the relationships with the family and Tanya, I think it's the relationships that make the Twilight books so great, and I wanted to explore how those relationships formed. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and a very long overdue trip to Maine. _

_Retired25: I shan't be stopping till it's finished. Thank you for your review._

_reader346: Thank you so much for such a nice comment! I read this as soon as I got up and it put me in the best of moods. I hope you enjoy the chapter._

_MissMartha: Well thank you very much for the review, and I really hope you like this chapter. _

_edwards-girl-4-ever: Thanks for the review, glad you liked the last one and hope you like this one._

_Areej.A.A: I love reading your reviews so whenever you have time is fine by me! Alice and Jasper will be introduced after this trip to Maine and once Rosalie and Emmett have established their relationship. I'm planning a slight time skip to 1950, and then beginning Alice and Jasper's story. So not long now, I just have to wrap up some ends in this part of the plot. And indeed George will be returning, not for a while yet, but he will be back for the plot surrounding Bella's memories. I think? There is not a definite plan for this part yet. I'm glad I've managed to reassure you about this story; it really has become my sanity from the craziness of Uni. Thanks for another review, as I said it's always nice to hear from you. Hope you enjoy. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Sixty Three: Iter itineris<span>

"Did you know according to these classified adverts I can buy a hotel just outside Berkeley Springs...it's been established for forty years and has a bar with a beer license." I read aloud, leaning the large broadsheet against my propped up legs. "I can buy baby chicks. Or even cabbage plants, ninety cents for a hundred...that's a really good deal."

"Well I suppose that's always useful to know." Edward replied, his eyes never leaving the road as we joined the main highway passed Hagerstown, towards the Pennsylvanian border.

"Just in case we decide to set up a hotel, or become arable farmers, you mean?" I retorted with a smile, pointing my toes as my feet rested on the dashboard. "Oh and there is a summer resort for sale...comes equipped with everything needed for ranching and cattle rearing. You think Esme will go for that?"

"I'm going to say no towards that one." He responded, glancing over the broadsheet that I could successfully hide behind. "What paper did you pick up? I thought you were getting The Post, or at least the Wall Street."

"The Farmville Herald." I said, brandishing the front of the paper at him. "It may be quite localised reading. But they have the best classified adverts. Should I ever need any kind of farming equipment, or want to purchase fancy pigeons and pheasants, I know where to look."

"Fancy pigeons?"

"Their words not mine...it says mallards and specked Sussex." I shrugged to signal the words had little meaning. "Not a huge fan of birds...and I was going to get The Post, but all it promised was further depression to my stocks. So the Herald looked a little more promising." I announced candidly, turning the page to speculate over an advertisement for Old Quaker Whisky. "Even the service station man recommended it, most probably a little bias as he said it was his home town."

"Is that what you were doing in that gas station?" He questioned, casting an irritable look towards the slow car in front.

"Mmm." I confirmed. "Not as antisocial as I may appear, I'm a sap for a good discussion on the weather."

"And that was all you spoke of?" He said tersely, his annoyance over the young man at the gas station was still simmering.

"No, we spoke of running away together." I answered with a broad smile, enjoying a little gloat over the jealously. "I could not help but be charmed by the way he chewed rolls of snuff, an attribute every girl wants in a prospective partner...and seeing as we're on the topic of prospective partners, any signs of Emmett or Rosalie announcing themselves?"

"I honestly haven't been paying much attention; their thoughts are unclear and jumbled on the matter." He replied, ignoring my jest with a well calculated vague answer.

"Oh." I complained loudly, tossing the newspaper to the back seat. "Here I was waiting for you to dish out the information."

"I thought you said you weren't going to interfere." Came his utterance, forgoing the speed limit to overtake the dawdling car in front.

"Yes, yes." I waved away the notion. "It's not like I'm forcing them together, I merely have an interest. And it's alright to have an interest, right?"

"I think the correct answer is yes." He replied wisely.

"Good." I nodded slowly, twisting my feet to the left to get a view of the passing road sign. "Are you sure we're going the right way?"

"Yes. North East towards New York State, going via Allentown. Just liked we planned." He answered, unperturbed by the sudden change in subject. "Why? Do you have a problem with this route all of a sudden?"

"No. Just making sure you know." I tried. "Passengers are supposed to navigate, those are the rules of the road...although they say men are better at reading maps; I beg to differ, but humans can't read maps and drive. So technically the man should really be navigating-"

"Do you want to drive?" He interrupted.

"Well seeing as you're asking, I suppose I could do." I implored with an agreeable smile that lingered onwards when he didn't quite understand.

"What? Right now?" He implored with an adorable quizzical look. "Can't we just pull over when we turn off the highway?"

"But...that's over fifty miles to Harrisburg." I complained, adding a pout to conform to my hedonistic ways.

"Fine." He exasperated. "I'll pull over at the next exit."

"No, you don't have to do that, just scoot over." The appropriate hand gestures given. "I'll climb over you."

"Oh will you." He replied coyly, faster than I could declare it was meant in a non-sexual way.

"Well you can think of it like that, but you're going to be disappointed." I explained. "Sex in a small confined space really isn't my style. Now move over, I want to drive."

The move had a varying degree of success, mostly my fault as the seat was too far away from the pedals, and I had to perch awkwardly on the edge until it was set right.

Eventually when everything was suitable for my height, and I was no longer a danger to other road users, we were able to continue onwards. But the journey was nothing short of monotonous, another seven hundred miles or so added to a ridiculous amount travelled so far this year, and it was only April. We summed it would take around a day in total to get there, a haphazard guess that depended on the weather. But the further north we progressed the cleaner the atmosphere became, the silt and dirt that had blown over had not reached Pennsylvania and the northern states, and thusly the storms were gone.

We passed through a mirage of towns, villages, and passed a couple of cities. Avoiding the coastal road to dodge the likes of Washington, Philadelphia and the monstrosity of traffic that New York was sure to promise. By the time we reached Vermont; and passed through a rather charming farming town called Castleton, we had already been traveling for sixteen hours and racked up an impressive thousand miles.

The car even having made it so far, was not however adept at running on sheer air alone, and so we were forced to stop for yet another round of gasoline. The ever increasing prices; eighteen cents a gallon, meant filling up the tank cost nearly four dollars. I could have bought a pair of Bally shoes with the amount we had paid overall.

Although it had been at Carlisle's expense, his coy ability to give us money without our knowledge was legendary. Hiding an envelope full of notes in the glove compartment without us noticing was skill indeed. I would have to be crafty when it came to exacting revenge.

I pulled over into a rather nice looking gas station, always relieved to find the human occupancy very much alive. Our car was the nicest and the newest on the forecourt; even if the former was an opinion, and we were the only customers. But the very instant we came to a halt under the canopy, a rather jolly gentleman almost flew from the kiosk. His neatly combed hair, curled moustache, and aproned ensemble; complete with a perfect bow tie, made him appear quite the dandy. He strolled confidently towards the car, arms wide and spewing out greetings.

"Is it too late to make a run for it?" Edward muttered, giving the man his best disapproving look.

"Technically no, but socially yes." I whispered through a tight smile, as the door was accosted open before I could even reach for the handle.

"Welcome, welcome, good afternoon." He announced with a heavy Germanic accent, swaying back and forth upon the balls of his feet as he peered into the car. "Vot can I do for you today, mein friends?"

"Good morning." Edward and I replied in awkward unison.

"Just a full tank, please." I managed to declare, holding back a display of teeth to scare this man into action.

"Regular or Super?" Mr bow tie questioned, maniacally waving over another man.

"Regular." I declared, eyeing up the second much younger man as he openly admired the car.

"You 'erd the Lady." Mr bow tie called, ushering the second man into action. He however made no attempts to move, and placed his body in the way of the open door. "Vot part of the Great Britannia are you from?" He attempted, keeping a close eye on the man filling the tank.

"London." I replied automatically, wrinkling my nose at the smell of gasoline that permeated the air.

"Holiday?" He wondered, turning his gaze back towards Edward and I. The question as to why I was driving could not have been more obvious in his eyes, but he made no comment towards it.

"Yes." I decided to reply, making no attempts at elaboration when he so bluntly turned away from said reply. But this time, instead of watching the gentleman pumping gas, his attention was taken by an approaching car. I glanced back in the rear view mirror to see a jet Model B pull up directly behind us, leaving no more than half a yard between our rear bumper and their grill.

The men currently occupying said car, were a burly duo, wearing outdated fedora hats, and hardly a handsome feature to recommend them. From the look of Mr bow tie's sudden profuse sweating and nervous moustache twitch, I summed these new comers were about as friendly as they looked.

"Gangsters?" I wondered quietly, watching both the driver and the passenger depart from the vehicle in perfect synchronisation. Our German friend was all smiles and charm as he left us to go greet them.

"Maybe not gangsters but their enthralled in some…illegal activities." Edward told me, a deep frown of calculation as he gathered his information. "They haven't really noted us...so let's not give them any reason to use the revolvers currently in their waistbands."

"Waistbands? Well that's a bit foolish, I once saw a man shoot himself in the posterior through bad gun positioning...I never laughed so hard." I rambled, eyes stilled trained on the scene behind us.

"Now they're wondering about us." Edward muttered with a tsk. On direct cue I could hear the driver quiz the service attendee about us, and then Mr bow tie stuck us directly in the line of fire. Not only did he say we were young, he said we were on holiday. Young holiday makers, with a very nice, and very expensive car, it blared and screamed easy target.

And from the looks the two burly men gave each other, and Edward's well placed curse, we were definitely in trouble. "They're coming over." He reported.

"Right." I acknowledged. "Polite and agreeable. We can't allow ourselves to get shot here, too many witnesses." We shared an affirmed nod.

From the wing mirror I could see the driver approach my side, and had little doubt the other was going around Edward's side, leaving no escape routes. Both the German man and his sidekick gasoline pumper had disappeared from the forecourt, leaving us to the mercy of the gangsters. I certainly wasn't going to pay for the gas now.

Burly driver slammed my door shut, before both; in perfectly practiced synchronisation, jumped into the backseat of the car. Before I could even make a human reaction a pistol was pressed delightfully against the back of my head, I bit back the rumble in my chest.

"Good afternoon." Burly passenger began, lounging back on the plush upholstery Esme and I had selected. "I believe this is what you may call a hold up."

"Yeah." Replied the second, pushing the barrel of the gun harder against my head. "Hold up."

"Look we will do whatever you want, just don't shoot." I tried, making an award worthy attempt at damsel in distress. I shot Edward a sharp look, warning him about the leather currently ripping beneath his fingers.

"Good girl." The first smirked. "Now drive."

I did what was asked, pulling away from the service station and back onto the main road through town. The lounging gangster, who seemed to be in charge, was all too blithe about the current situation. So I had no doubt these pair had partaken in such things before. Unfortunately for them they had just car jacked two vampires, who were now planning on either allowing them to live or…the best way to dispose of human bodies.

Gun wielding gangster, decided lighting up a cigarette in my car was a good idea. The steering wheel taking the brunt of my anger, as my fingers imprinted themselves within the wood. At least lounging gangster had the decency to demand he opened a window.

He told me to continue onwards out of the town, and made me take the rural road instead of the highway. The two men spoke openly about returning to Enfield, leaving me to guess they had no plans to keep us alive. It was only when we passed several police vehicles patrolling the road, and the two men slunk down in their seats, did I understand the reasoning for them commandeering our car. Undoubtedly stealth was not a strong point, the authorities most probably had their motorcar details and were hunting them down.

And so the moment we hit the rural road towards the village of Enfield, I no longer felt so agreeable and courteous. I was determined to have a honeymoon, and being hijacked by humans was not on my agenda. "You know this isn't a vehicle for hire." I commented bluntly. Having no desire to play host to some ill-fated, foolhardy and blatantly poorly skilled want to be mobsters.

"What?" Replied the two.

"I said, this isn't a vehicle for hire." Articulating the sentence slow enough for them to understand. "I should kick you both to the kerb."

Lounging gangster sat up a little straighter. "Now, now sugar, that pretty little mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble." From the waistband of his trousers he pulled another small revolver and predictably pointed it at Edward. "Or how about I shoot your pretty boyfriend." He grinned a horribly toothy smile, waiting for my scared whimpering.

"For one, sweetling, he's my husband." I declared, giving him an open smile with a view if my many sharp teeth. "And I'd like to see you try."

"Indeed. While I'm all for the preservation of human life, I have no qualms about tearing out your throat." Edward replied pointedly. "But it looks like my wife has set her cap on you. So I guess that leaves me with you." He nodded towards the cigarette smoking gangster with a predatory smile.

"Shut the fuck up." Came the shaky reply, as he removed the gun from my head and decided to point it at Edward.

"Is that fear?" I smiled sadistically in the rear mirror. "I can smell it on you."

"Stop!" Lounging gangster yelled suddenly, turning his revolver on me. "Stop the fucking car!" It seemed I had scared the man from the palpations of his heart.

"As you wish." Slamming on the brakes with enough force to make the tires screech and rubber smoke, throwing both the men forward against our seats with a heavy lurch. "Last stop, all services terminate here." I called.

It took a half a minute or so for them to recover from their little accident, but they were soon at our doors wrenching them open and accosting us out at gunpoint. I was lucky enough to be on the receiving end of lounging gangster's revolver.

"I was going to let you live." He told me. "Pretty little thing like you, would have suited be good."

"Well." I corrected. "I would have suited you well."

His eyes almost popped from their sockets, and the vein at his temple throbbed dangerously. "Oh I'm going to enjoy killing you." He spat. "Impertinent little wench." His revolver was roughly pressed against my temple, and a great show was made of pulling back the hammer. Roughly jostling my arm in an attempt to instil a little fear, but the saddest thing about taking on a vampire is we lacked any such things when it came to humans.

I caught Edward's eye and we silently agreed to try and move this away from the road, there was still the threat of passing automobiles to contend with. They weren't stupid enough to kill us in the middle of the road, and so proceeded to march us off towards the coppiced woodland surrounding both sides of the road. "Soon as we're out of sight." Edward whispered, too quietly for the block headed duo to hear.

"No blood, no foul." I muttered in reply, imagining snapping the hand that was currently holding my arm tightly.

We were forced to lumber along with their clumsy footsteps, the bare coppicing of the trees made camouflage from the road particularly difficult. My hand was forced to at least attempt to leave these two men alive, to abide by the instilled motto of human preservation where possible. But the more my cream shoes became dirty, and then harder the pistol was pushed into my neck, the less I was willing to follow the rule.

"Move it." Lounging gangster sneered, smacking the back of my head with the butt of his revolver. The force of the metal gun against my marble skin was enough to violently jar the old Colt, and set off the firing mechanism. It exploded in his hand, the sound of a bullet launching off into the trees, and his unfortunate yowl as it burn his hands.

Taking heed from Edward's example I turned on my oppressor, placing a well-aimed strike to his head. He fell like a rag doll, slumping to the ground in a very unflattering position next to his friend. At least they could recommend themselves as alive.

"For fuck's sake." I muttered, running fingers through my hair to rid the strands of gun powder, and kicking the man in the ribs for good luck. "Swear to god I shall kill the next thing that tries to stop me reaching Maine."

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><p><em>AN: This has honestly run quite away with me. My flat mate was watching an old film called Little Caesar (brilliant) for his film studies assignment. Within the trailer there is a scene where an old car pulls up into a gas station, predictably a gangster gets out the car and shoots the gas attendant. So when I was writing my own scene I could not help but introduce some 'gangsters' into the mix._

_And The Farmville Herald is indeed a paper in Virginia, and still exists to this day. I was able to find an online scan of a double page spread from April 1935. The advertisements are real, and I could not resist adding them into the story. _

_Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy._


	65. Chapter Sixty Four: Ergo bibamus

_A/N: Sorry this is a little late but I'm currently within exam mode, and have been writing this within fifteen minute breaks between revision sessions. But it's not long now till summer starts, and with it a bout of free time makes an appearance. I've had some problems with my email, and only two reviews got through, so I had the most brilliant of surprises when I logged onto my account and noticed we were at three hundred and sixty two! So thanks, as usual, to everyone who has reviewed, alerted, favoured...etc. _

_viola1701e: I've never really watched any gangster films, but honestly once I was introduced to the genre I loved it. Especially the really old corny ones, the dramatic death scenes are so funny. Bella's attentions always seem to be on something trivial or unimportant; I think she has a bit of a dirt issue. But in the end they are finally going to reach their destination. Thanks for reviewing._

_Holidai: Thanks for reviewing, good to know you enjoyed the chapter, and the old school carjacking. I did a little research on the gas prices, and it depended on the gasoline company; whether it was a large corporation like Shell or Esso, or a small home-grown company. I think the average for the time was around seventeen to nineteen cents per gallon. Seeing as everyone seems to complain about gas prices, I thought it was a very human thing for Bella to say. Seeing as she seems to regard herself as very non-human. _

_silverhawk88: I'm going along with the timeline, so Alice and Jasper are still a little way down the line, but they are the next subplot of the discourse, so not too long. Thanks for reviewing. _

_MissMartha: Old wanted ads are fantastic; they really are the best parts of reading newspapers. When I found the copy of The Farmville Herald, the buying and selling page was full of the most bazaar things. Bella's penchant for thinking the world is conspiring against her, may well be true. She's definitely made her assault on something. Thanks for reviewing._

_Matthias Stormcrow: I'm happy you liked it, and thanks for reviewing. _

_Retired 25: Thanks very much, always nice to hear you like new occurrences._

_leahmarie59: Ha I feel I've become quite predictable...I did ponder over skipping straight to the location, but I think a story can be found even in a car ride, and I do love my detail. The idea of a carjacking was just too good an opportunity to miss, and seeing as neither Edward nor Bella could react due to witnesses, an awkward ride commenced. Thanks for reviewing once again! _

_rainbow1825: Thanks for the encouraging review. It was well needed, since I was getting a little complacent, kept putting off my editing. Much appreciated! _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Sixty Four: Ergo bibamus<span>

If I was honest-to which I subsequently knew I had an unfortunate habit of being- I confess the accommodation was not quite what I had been expecting. And for perhaps the first time in a while the fates had decided to give me a small break from their recent incessant barrage upon my life, and a stroke of good luck had befallen me. My expectations of the possible basic squalor of a hunting cabin had been converted, and the accommodation was a delight.

Our luck came through actions, instead of running around the wilderness like savages; we had taken the incentive and gone to the local tourist information bureau. The humans were peppy, friendly, and all too keen to have our every whim tailored to, never batting a lash to the notion of complete isolation we desired. They found us the perfect hunting lodge, contacted the owner in New York, and sorted out payment for our week long vacation. Maine seemed like the most pleasant, and admirable place I had ever been.

It had survived the great fire of nineteen eleven, and so the buildings downtown were modern and mostly brick fronted. The roads were wide, and the sidewalks spacious. Not once were we forced to dodge people, step into the gutter to avoid a mass of humans determined not to move, or heaven forbid, increase their ambling walk. Although quite a small city, its location as both a transport and commercial port, as well as the fairly recent modernisation, meant there was much to do.

The city boasted a huge public library, a symphony orchestra, numerous movie theaters, and more decent shops than I could possibly visit in a given day. And should that still not be enough, one could travel to Bar Harbor and take a ferry boat to Nova Scotia.

Never mind Carlisle looking to purchase a safe house, I was determined to live here.

Wanting to accomplish more than physically possible within the length of our stay, I very reluctantly had to leave the city in search of this house we were now renting for the week. Even though it was a little further than I had wanted; then again anything further than staying within the immediate area of Bangor was deemed too far. Nevertheless I commandeered the driving seat, and drove the thirty miles or so north towards Boyd Lake.

Edward for all intents and purposes was quite a good navigator, and we only argued once over which road was the most direct. But seeing as I was driving, I made the decision, and thusly he bet me the next time we journeyed the other route would be shorter.

But nothing regarding silly bets mattered, because the cabin the woods was not horror film archaic, it was quaint and nice. Rustically decorated, two bedrooms, one modern bathroom, and open spaced living quarters, with enough space to swing that metaphorical cat...or whip, whatever the preference.

Yet even better, and placing taxidermy hunting trophies aside, we were finally alone. Actually on our own, no well-meaning family members hovering around, no extended family having slight dilemmas, it was just the two of us. With that realisation in mind it really didn't take us long to scope out the next step, unpacking a lost cause.

We tried to keep the...damage to a minimum. Ignoring the pine bed altogether, for the cheap carpentry wouldn't stand a chance. But overall things when pretty well for the furniture, nothing broken or splintered, and even the walls had survived this time. The only casualty was a slight shunt to the bedroom threshold, and although the door wouldn't quite shut completely it was barely noticeable to the human eye.

I decided that trips to Maine; or trips in general, were going to become an annual thing, or perhaps a biannual thing. Because being alone was so very underrated.

"Can you believe there are no clothing hangers?" I declared, idly swinging the wardrobe door between my thumb and index finger. "We have every indoor luxury, just no hangers."

"Didn't you pack any? I'm sure you packed the kitchen sink." Edward replied, tossing my trunk onto the bed. "Any chance I can have my shirt back?"

"I packed some, not enough for the both of us. We'll just have to hang the important things and fold the rest." I told him. With a struggle I did manage to pull back the leather straps around the traveling case, unbuckling the clasps and popping the brass latch. "This shirt is now mine, find another."

"My wardrobe is slowly getting smaller due to your commandeering."

I unpacked with the usual flourish, tossing things into the draws, and hanging the nice things that I was determined not to see creased. Bossily ordering Edward around until I was satisfied he had sorted out his own things, I was sure he would be happy to live out of a case, had I let him.

Wearing little more than my undergarments and a shirt, I deemed leaving the house to hunt would require a little more modesty. Using my own clothes this time; I found the least important items in my wardrobe, a pair of scruffy jodhpurs, and hastily pulled them on.

"Do we have plans?" Edward asked, changing into something hunting worthy. "Have you decided on something?"

I could only shake my head as I struggled to put on a supposedly fashionable oversized woollen jumper, there seemed to be far too many holes to contend with. "No." I finally remedied, blowing my bangs from my eyes. "We could just walk around the city? See what occurs? I mean, there must be something exciting to do, Bangor has a fair few bars and such."

He shrugged in a generally unhelpful manner. "Whatever you want, love."

"Pray tell what kind of reply is that? You can do things too. Go to the places you want to go." I replied, fastening the stupidly oversized jumper with a belt. "I will permit such a thing, you know."

"You know I'm happy as long as you're happy." He informed me, being the perfect gentleman to my less than stellar ladylike behaviour.

"That won't do for a reply either, it was terribly sickly." I told him, fixing my unruly curls into a poorly tied braid. "But I appreciate the sentiments. Are you quite done?"

"Quite." He mocked. "I'm quite done."

"Fine. Excellent. Good." I counted back with a bite. "Let's go. And pray for a little diversity in the food stock. I want to boast a decent to kill to Emmett. He can't beat me in the largest record, he is but still a child."

"Well then, after you." He said, making a great show of opening the slightly crooked door. Laughing when I scowled at the overabundance of debonair actions.

But never one to be outdone in a verbal fight, I made a great show of sauntering through. "You can hardly be so courteous and genteel after what happened against that poor threshold, you know they're really not built to withstand such….forces." I counteracted coyly, enjoying the tease and leave much more than I should have.

* * *

><p>Maine indeed was a peaceful city, during the day the people seemed friendly and went about their simple business around the little shops. But like so many cities with a direct link to Canada via water, they had been notorious with bootleggers and gangs during prohibition. Although those days were long since gone, most of the underground speakeasies had remained in business.<p>

It was gone ten o'clock in the eve, when we arrived at our assumed location. Along the still working docks of the Penobscot River, a little back from the direct logging businesses, and across the road were a line of rather derelict looking buildings, once belonging to the Port Master and his administrators. New ones had been built further on down to accommodate the growing docks.

Although the buildings were relics, having survived the great fire of nineteen eleven, and looked to be deserted, they were very neatly kept up. And from the sheer noise emanating from the building, it could hardly be called derelict.

"I told you." I whispered to Edward, as we stood across the road next to a place that offered rug sales and services. "I knew wearing this dress would come to some sort of good."

"You want to go in there?" He asked sceptically, eyeing the building with a look of distain.

"No, I want us to go in there." I replied, grabbing at his arm excitedly. "It's been such a long time since I've been to a speakeasy. Or a bar…we haven't been dancing in ages. Especially to a Jazz club."

He replied with nothing but a slight tilt of the head, regarding the building and the goings on inside. Seeing as he made no blatant refusal to go in, I managed to pull him easily across the street. "It will be fun." I declared eagerly.

"How do you know?" He grumbled in protest.

"Because Jazz halls are fun, have you never been to one?" I questioned.

"Yes, once. It was...loud and there were many humans, everywhere." He replied tersely.

"Where was that? Sounds like a hoot." I japed, slowing our pace as we neared the paved path that coiled around the building.

Like most establishments of this caliber the entrance was not to be had at the front, back during the 'dry' era it was hardly wise to advertise your illegal business right on the roadside. So we ambled onwards; I more so than my reluctant other half, and luckily we found the entrance in the old loading docks. Converted into something a little more attractive now the place was legal. A considerate veranda for those waiting to get in, and those who had taken their discussions and drink outside.

There were many small groups gathered together by the doors, a haze of cigarette smoke surrounding their heads as they waited with barely concealed patience, and the dearest hope of making it past the door gentleman. But it seemed like this was a covert kind of place, those being let in were dressed to impress. Nice suits, expensive dresses, and strange nods towards the goons standing stoic.

"How do you suggest we progress." Edward whispered from my side, eyeing the crowds with a degree of speculation. "I do believe this is an invite only kind of event."

"And when has that ever stopped me?" I replied, gazing rather darkly towards a group of females who had taken an interest in us.

"That kind of speech always precedes something questionable." He said, a hand a little firmer on my elbow. "Allow me?"

"A plan?" I wondered as he led us towards the imposing brutes at the door.

"Improvisation." He corrected. "How do you think I got into the last one?"

"I knew it." I giggled, bumping my hip into his frame. "You have a secret love of shindigs."

He had no time to deny it as we had already reached the human hearing range, and then subsequently the socially acceptable range of a greeting. The two men, on first glance, looked to be of a large constitution, but beneath the Cuban heels, and large shoulder pads of their awfully tailored suits, they did not cut such an impressive sight. They shifted uncomfortably as we stood a merely two yards away, taking breath into their lungs to stand another inch or so taller.

"Good evening, gentlemen." Edward began, the cold suave of his voice was a humorous difference to his usual tenor. "I have some business to attend to with the owner if this establishment-" he paused, a usual sign of gathering the thoughts of others. " Doctor Moreau." Came the name.

The men exchanged looks, shifting uncomfortably once again in their shoes. "What business?" One asked in an excessively gruff tone.

"None of yours. It's for Doctor Moreau's ventures and his alone." Edward replied, clenching and unclenching his fist in an elaborate manner. "I'd really prefer not to be kept waiting. You understand, deadlines and such? Certain people...cannot be kept waiting."

"Sure thing." Both men seemed to agree, stepping gallantly to one side. "He's up on top floor, staircase directly on the right as you go in." One whispered as we passed by.

I smiled to assure him I had heard, but he only shivered in response to my ruby framed smile and bright white teeth.

It was far too late to lament any form of salvage, for the heavy doors were already closed behind us, and we were plunged into the dimly lit space.

"I applaud your skill." I told him over the noise of the live band, "But now I'm curious, who is this mysterious Doctor Moreau?"

"I'm afraid you will be disappointed, he is merely a retired Doctor who is spending retirement in the nightclub business, selling illegal cigars on the side." He replied. "That's what they thought I was here for, to discuss a shipment."

"So we're illegal cigar sellers tonight?" I mulled, pulling him behind me as we drifted away from the cloakroom and towards the main floor. Everything of interest was located in the basement; the stage, the dance floor, cosy tables, and most importantly the bar. But the clever little ducks had taken out most of the ground floor, merely leaving a gallery to view the basement below.

Everything was loud, superfluous, and so terribly fantastic. This was no mere Jazz bar, but a Swing hall. It was packed full of brilliantly dressed people, and I was sure this was the entire young and fashionable population of Bangor. Crisply uniformed staff members were weaving their way through the groups, trays of fancy, brightly coloured drinks balanced far above their heads. It may not have been the most elaborately decorated place, but the atmosphere was enthralling.

"The good Doctor sure knows how to throw a party." I declared, leaning over the gallery banister to view to scene below.

"His retirement seems to be a busy one." Edward agreed. "I suppose this could be a possible career change for Carlisle, if he ever retires."

"Could you imagine?" I laughed. "Carlisle retiring. That's a jest in itself...never mind owning a jazz hall. Saying that, I did wonder over the purchase of a speakeasy once."

"And how did that not come to pass?" He questioned, declining the offer of drinks from a passing waiter.

"While it would have been a good investment at the time... how could I possibly enjoyed myself. No, there was too much hassle, money, time, keeping the local police ignorant, dealing with opposing groups. I much rather be a participant."

"Well then, I suppose I better take the hint." He announced, stepping back from our look out post to extend a hand. "Would you care to dance?"

"I was beginning to think you would never ask." I cheered, placing my hand in his and having no mind to being escorted along. Amongst the hordes of humans we found ourselves, yet our appearance was hardly noted upon, be it the darkness of the room, or the intoxication, we were able to exist alongside the mortals.

We danced in our small allotted space with the ease of vampire grace, avoiding the sometimes clumsy footing if those around us. But nothing really mattered beyond our own little bubble of delirium, for the first time in what seemed an age we were able to find the hilarity and fun in everything. Worry for the family, self-preservation, and all the other worries that encapsulated immortality, seemed to disappear.

So maybe drinking the alcohol was an unnecessary step, but once we started the betting, stubbornness always prevailed. Plus Edward's disgusted face was too entertaining to miss. We also came to discover the strength of the beverage made absolutely no difference to their level of foulness. However straight and on the rocks were better than the sugary colourful ones.

By the time our little experiment had outdone its expiration of fun, our small table in the corner of the room was heavy with a mirage of glasses, most barely touched, but some were half full. The music had lost its vibe and become much slower than before, the remaining dancers swaying exhaustedly with each other. The floor had become significantly depleted, the humans leaving for much needed sleep; it was now four o'clock in the morning.

I didn't notice the movement of people until Edward pointed it out. A group of humans were moving along the gallery, the group primarily made up of several nicely dressed men, and one pretty woman, seemed to be watching the patrons below. In the middle of the group an older gentleman stood, his palms spread out on the shiny wooden banister. His lips pursed in thought, as one of the doormen fed information to his ear.

"Time to move." Edward said, averting his gaze from the group. "They've come searching for us."

"Did they finally figure out we're not cigar dealers?" I questioned with a grin, taking his offered hand, and stealthily moving into the shadows beneath the gallery walkway.

"Let's just say the Doctor wasn't expecting any business tonight, he wants to know how we know him." He replied.

Out of sight we made our way towards the fire door, passing a man who had clearly consumed way too much liquor, and a couple who were openly displaying their affections. But before anyone could identify us, we had already slipped silently into the night.

"I think we should try and avoid getting into trouble." I announced quietly. Walking precariously upon the wooden dock wall, my hand resting on Edward's shoulder as he proceeded at my side. "At least for a couple of days."

"We should refrain from drinking games." He added, pulling a face.

"Yeah." I replied softly. Feeling the uncomfortable notion of the liquid at the bottom of my stomach. "I think this is what nausea feels like…Do you think I could get Emmett to drink?"

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed._


	66. Chapter Sixty Five: Litus

_A/N: It seems like ages since I last wrote my authors note, but I am still alive, and gladly nearing the end of my exams. Just the one left before I'm free to move back to the middle of nowhere, and start my summer break. Thanks as usual for all those who have reviewed, alerted, favoured, and for being patient while I wrestle on through my exams. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: First name up on by review emails, thanks for the encouragement and I hope you continued to like the upcoming chapters._

_MissMartha: It's quite sad that the characters in my story are having more fun than myself; I would love to go carousing off with them. Thanks for reviewing, and I hope you enjoy their next bout of frolicking. _

_Areej.A.A: I think I'm going to have to include Emmett drinking; he was keen on a drink as a human, so I'm sure Bella can persuade him. I hope your exams have gone well, and thank you for the good wishes towards mine. Thanks for reviewing. _

_viola1701e: Thanks for taking the time to review. I think Bella is almost as excited about the trip to Bangor than the happenings in the bedroom. Fun is definitely a requirement. _

_CullenBoy123: I really like writing about the two of them having adventures; it's not all doom and gloom, evil vampires, and endless fights. They were friends before all the romance, and friends always seem to have the most fun. Nice to see your review in my inbox, and thanks for the exam luck, I definitely need it. _

_reader326: You are the first person to comment on my very rusty and basic Latin, that requires the use of a very old translation/phrase book. Thanks for taking the time to review, and I hope you enjoy. _

_Retired 25: Oh I'm glad you liked by gangsters and speakeasies, I confess I really do love writing about them. Trying to make the most of them before we have to move on. Thanks for the review._

_46 Husbands Later: That is a great username by the way! Honestly I'm still quite indecisive about Bella's memories, I've written down the plot plan about her finding out about her past. But I'm still considering the memories topic. Thanks for the review, nice to hear from you._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga. _

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Sixty Five: Litus<span>

April 22nd 1935

On this very Monday the weather was stunning. A warm sun shining in an almost perfectly blue sky, only ever blocked by the odd sailing cloud. The temperature had soared well into the twenties, and this slight abnormality meant the city was filled with people. I could already predict the parks and green spaces would be filled with those looking to make the most of the weather, or hoping to engage in a fashionable skin tanning. Who could blame them; it was a sure sign summer was on the way.

Not one to be outdone by a little sunny weather on my holiday, we had forgone Bangor for the day. Deciding instead to take a drive to Bar Harbor, with the intent to take the ferry to Yarmouth. For a dollar fifty we were able to park the Packard below deck, and amble up above. Since the sun shone from its highest noon peak, we were able to stroll along the promenade enjoying the views from the open sides.

While the steam ferry was relatively busy, most of the passengers had moved to the uncovered upper deck. Soaking in the warmth of the weather, and feeling superior on their high platform overlooking the sea.

We staked out on the port side of the ship, leaning against the deck rails and watching as we sailed away from the harbour. Diagonally across Frenchman Bay, passing by the adjacent land mass, before into the open Gulf. From our left hand position we had an ample view of the Maine coastline, the mass of islands and bays that made up the rocky shore. The air was saturated with the smells of the ship, warm polish on the railings, the engines, steam, and cigarette smoke drifting from the top deck. Only ever dissipating when gusts of cross winds blew at their irregular intervals, the salty air was a refreshing break.

There was something very odd about traveling over water, floating along at a trepid speed in search of more land. Moving over water that was over fifteen hundred feet deep. Having never been on any type of boat or ship before, it was a strange experience, while new and exciting; there was something very…bazaar about it. I gaged that perhaps I was not the seafaring type, more a land lover.

"What about this one?" Edward asked, folding the real estate brochure in half and passing me the text. "It's way up North, in Aroostock County. Near Island Falls."

"That's about as secluded as it gets." I commented, viewing the tiniest of prints. "So what's it got to recommend it…six bedrooms? Well I think that should be enough. Spacious living room, blah, blah, bathrooms, eighteen acres. Does that say possible room for farming exploits? You do know I was joking about the owning a ranch thing?"

"Possible exploits. Nowhere does it say we have to go into any kind of farming." He retaliated. "Is that a yes or no towards a viewing?"

"Sure, why not? How far is it from Bangor?" I wondered, eyes from the print and drifting to the horizon where the return ferry sailed.

"From Island Falls...around ninety miles. Plus another six to the house." He stated, moving his hands from the banister as the sun began to creep along the wood. "That's a two hour drive. And there is a direct road."

"Better." I decided. Enjoying the warmth through the heavy cream lace gloves that were protecting my hands. To escape the unrelenting beams we had to cover as much skin as possible, light fabrics and colours to dispel any notice by the mortals. And for when cover was scarce we had the sun parasol at hand.

I had always wondered over the notion of shimmering skin, what purpose it served for adaptation and evolution. It was hardly an inconspicuous trait.

Carlisle had mentioned Aro's ponderings over the matter, his thoughts ranged from attempting to snare a meal, to enticing a mate. I failed to see how sparkling like the jewellery in Tiffany's store windows, could possibly accomplish either of those. It seemed to me more like a defective vampiric trait, a reaction between our marble skin and the ultraviolet rays. Yet that was also a mere theory, one could hardly carve up a vampire on an autopsy slab in the name of science. However such a theoretic thought led to a startling consideration, one that vampires like Aro of the Volturi would vehemently deny, that maybe, just maybe we had flaws.

But being flawed made everything much more exciting.

"Let's set up a viewing." I declared, adjusting the slanted sun hat that had made an appearance for the weather. "I suppose we can't judge it unless we've seen it. Might be an utter shit hole, or it might be quite nice."

"Well that man at the realtor's office recommended we look through his guide, and seeing as you made sure he knew we were cash buyers-"

"Otherwise they pass you off with substandard housing." I interjected.

"I'm sure the houses in this." He gestured to the guide. "Can't be utter shit holes."

"I've bought enough property in my time to know you have your decent, lovely realtors, who make it their business to find you the best house. Or you get bastard realtors, who will try and sell you squalor."

"Well if it's any consolation, the man we spoke to had no mind to deceive or steal from us." Edward educated.

"Yes, but he merely worked for the realtors, the rest could be bastards."

"You're very suspicious today." He decided.

"Only today? I think I'm suspicious most of the time. We don't all have the ability to see into the minds of others." I teased with a half-smile. Aimlessly running my covered fingers along the grain on the banister.

"Everyone but you." He corrected.

"Does that mean you're suspicious of me?" I wondered, looking suspiciously at the flecks of polish flaking from the railings.

"I'd say more curious." He confirmed, nodding a polite greeting to an elderly couple as they passed us by. "But sometimes suspicious, I have become wary of your devious smiles."

"Devious? I have no such smile." I argued flatly. From the banister my eyes fell to the water below, watching the rhythmic vision of the waves lapping against the side of the ship. "Do you think we could run underwater?"

"Run?" He repeated. "You mean along the bottom?"

"Yes." I nodded. Minding my hat as I did so, for it was of such a size that I was quite sure it could catch the wind and fly away. "We sink, so that's a start against the buoyancy issue. But I wonder if we could run."

"You're not planning on jumping ship? I'm wearing my best shoes today."

"No, rest assured your shoes are quite safe." I told him. "It was merely a wondrous thought…but then again perhaps I will tell Emmett it is possible. I should like to see him attempt to run underwater."

"Manipulation."

"Within the realm of curiosity, for science, and the knowledge of vampire kind."

"Is that your mantra for everything you make Emmett do?"

"It's the truth, for I had no idea food swallowed whole could be…retrieved in the same state. Now should anyone wish to know I shall be able to tell them."

"Yes, but you did not have to view him…retrieving that food. I shall have to recall that forever."

Our journey across the bay lasted for approximately two hours, a steady speed of twelve knots that never broke from its monotonous expedition. We move sides, enabling a view of the great expanse of the Atlantic Ocean, straight ahead to starboard, stretching as far as the eye could see. A foreboding cover of blue that met the horizon with a hazy bright line.

Several people had descended from the top deck, some in respite to the ever growing heat, others in preparation as we neared Yarmouth.

Eventually we moved again, a little way toward the stern, gaging a better look as we docked into the Nova Scotian port. The ship passed by much larger merchant vessels and long distance ferries, tethered in the outer limits of the harbour. Vehicles swarmed the dock side, picking up passengers. While a steam engine sat upon its waterside railroad, its horde of coal being unloaded into the ships stoker holds.

We continued up the narrow strip of water, leaving the bigger ships behind and seemingly drifting toward our own moorings. Eventually the great steam engines were cut completely, and a rusty little tug boat came to push us to berth.

I was all too happy to be back on dry land, but at least I could tell that small boy from the book store I had now been on a ship.

* * *

><p>Yarmouth was all one would expect from a bustling fishing town, and prime stop on the Dominion Atlantic Railway. But its charm and transportation links were also being enjoyed by a great bounty of humans. So we drove straight through, away from the masses and north towards something more enjoyable.<p>

And as soon as I saw the entire length of the coast line, I was completely sold on the idea of doing something I had never done, a visit to the beach. For of all the things I had done within my twenty three years of immortality; and some things being very strange indeed, a proper trip to a beach was not something I had accomplished.

"Have you ever been?" I questioned, watching as we passed through a handful of tiny hamlets, the road running straight through the middle of them.

He pulled his considering face, slightly frowning as the question was wondered over. "I think so…yes. I can vaguely recall visiting Illinois Beach Park. But I think I was about eleven at the time."

"Illinois? So you mean a lake shore beach?" I asked will a little disgruntlement.

"Yes." He replied slowly. "Unless Illinois has a coast line I don't know about."

"I don't mean it like that." I rectified with a roll of the eyes. "It's just… I've been to lake shore beaches…I'm talking about _proper_ beaches. Coastal beaches. Ones that sit between the land and an ocean."

"Well I'm sorry to disappoint, I don't think I've ever been to a _proper_ beach."

"No. That's a good thing. I don't feel so unadventurous now." Slightly distracted by the fluttering of the cuff on my lace gloves, as they caught the wind flow from the open window. "I can't imagine why you'd ever want to live away from any kind of water source, that's why I liked the Great Lakes, harbours make cities and towns more interesting."

"Perhaps your fascination with waterscapes is a sure sign of your Britishness." He replied.

"Hmm, it is an island, surround by an ocean with proper beaches...I like that idea. I'm going to use that as my reasoning in the future." I nodded.

"Do you think you'd ever go back?"

"Back to Britain." I wondered aloud, mulling over the thought with a little consideration. "Maybe. It would be nice to see the country I presume I'm from. London always seems like an exciting place. I'd tolerate being a tourist, visiting Buckingham Palace, The Tower of London, the Victoria and Albert Museum, all those other places people talk about. Carlisle always did say he would like to go back...maybe we should go. I think I'd like to go, perhaps."

"Did you just persuade yourself into going?" He laughed.

"While I can be very persuasive, I've considered the thought before. But seeing as taking a ship across the Atlantic isn't possible, we're hardly at Carlisle's level of control."

"There's always the possibility of taking a plane, isn't that what Pan American Airways are advertising for?"

"And how long have they been advertising that notion for? It would be easier to take a German Hindenburg; at least they have set a date for their transatlantic voyage. And I hear they are going to have a bar on board."

"Everything one could possibly want, it even has subsequent links with the Nazi party." Edward replied.

"Ah…the downfall of any great company, an alliance with a National Socialist Party, comprising of politicians with badly concealed ideas of grandeur and a strange little man as their leader. Perhaps then I should wait for Pan Am and their great flight, I'd rather not have a good trip ruined by bad politics." I acknowledged, kneeling in my seat to get as close to the open window as my hat would allow.

"So is that the finality of your answer on the Britain front?" He asked.

"Dunno." I explained, watching as the trees and lakes passed by. "If I went today, or sometime soon, I think the reason behind going would be unclear. I'd just be going for the sake of going. Walking around wondering if I'd ever been to these places before. But then again…I'm never going to get any memories back. They don't just one day appear like magic… And I've been dead too long for anyone to remember. So would it really matter?"

"Do you think you'd regret doing one over the other?" He wondered. "Going sooner or later."

"These are very tough questions." I scolded. "I thought we were having fun and going to the beach, I didn't realise an interview was required beforehand. Because I don't know the answer, ask me when non-stop commercial transatlantic travel becomes possible. Otherwise I shan't answer."

"I'm sorry." He apologised. "No more tough questions."

"Good. Let's ask fun questions instead."

"Such as?"

"Like...at what point should I attempt to bring in the request for soundproofing in the next house? Or is that a tad too awkward?"

"Well." He laughed. "Seeing as you bought it up..."

"No way." I whined, gripping his arm and giving it a squeeze. "I was hypothetically speaking, I don't have enough dexterity for such a comment, I'll say something vulgar...you know I will."

"And I shall laugh." He replied, mocking my wrinkled nose with one of his own.

"I don't want Carlisle and Esme to think I'm vulgar, I even censor my cursing in the house."

"What about me?" He tried, attempting a humours look of innocence. "And I think Esme and Carlisle have realised by now, that when we're left alone we're hardly having a tea party."

"First and foremost, you know far too much about my personality traits, for me to change. And second, don't slight the British traditions with your own vulgarity." I responded. Removing my firm grip on his arm and realising I was now sitting dead centre in the bench, taking up a little of Edward's space, but here I could see straight down the middle. I liked the different view, so I didn't move.

"Do you have the map?" He wondered, glancing over to the glove compartment. "Because I'm just driving with no destination."

"The destination is the beach." Attempting to communicate the map had been thrown haphazardly onto the back seat.

"So no map."

"It's backseat driving." I smiled. "Just pull over somewhere near the edge of land, it will either be cliffs, a beach, or a harbour. We have a one in three chance of getting what we want."

"That is the most…t-that is strangely very logical." He decided, doing just as I'd asked and pulling over into a deep road lay-by just outside a small village we had passed through.

"See." I announced with vigour. "Who needs a map?"

The weather was hardly ideal for an amble, but at least we had the occasional cover from the sea formed clouds. And seeing as the rural walk toward the coast line was hardly populated with humans, we forgo the parasol for just our hats. Although Edward was loathsome to wear his.

After walking half a mile of so through some unmanaged and frankly wild looking pine woodlands, we came out upon the craggy cliffs. In the distance the actual beach could be seen stretching out for seemingly miles, eventually curving around the arch of the cove. At least we could now see where we were heading.

With the tide receding outwards we walked inbetween the pebbles and the sand, at first having to hide beneath the parasol to avoid a dog walker. But once he had disappeared back to the cliff paths; and with no more humans in sight, we were able to disregard the precautionary cover. I also lost my shoes, hiked up the long hem of my skirt, and forced Edward to come into the water and keep the seaweed away from me.

"Do we have spare clothes in the car?" He asked, watching the waves rise and fall.

"Yes." I answered warily, gripping onto his hand a little tighter and narrowing my eyes. "Don't even think about it."

"Think about what?" He replied innocently.

"If you dare…" I warned, removing my hand and slowly backing away from his troublesome grin. "I shall get you back."

Unfortunately having to walk backwards in water, and with one hand occupied with a handful of skirt, reactions were terribly slow. My lowly spare hand was useless in attempting to keep him at bay, and I found myself taking a swim. He followed quickly when I found my feet again.

It was a very wet, very sandy walk back to the car.


	67. Chapter Sixty Six: Domum derelicta

_A/N: I'm absolutely delighted to say all my exams are now over, and I'm finally back home after packing up all my things and hauling them three hundred miles away. And working pending I should hopefully be a little quicker with the updates, I really want them back to once a week again. Thanks to everyone who had reviewed, alerted, favoured, and for being super patience while I've been buried under exam work. _

_Holidai: Thanks for the reviews. It's good to know all the historical research is enjoyed, I'm trying my very best to be as accurate as possible, and I really do love adding as much detail as possible. And seeing as people are always talking a complaining about current affairs, it's only right they do so too. Although they are vampires, they are all very domesticated, and I like the idea of them doing very human things. Albeit sometimes with varying degrees of success. And Bella only knows her first name, but is unsure as to whether it is her actual human name, or one given to her by her creator._

_46 Husbands Later: Indeed George will be making a reappearance later on when we reach the plot regarding Bella's past, it will be very interesting to write. Thanks for the review._

_CullenBoy123: Ooh tough question, I've written out my plot plan for Bella finding out about her past...but I'm still not sure about her memories. I shall have to see what happens when I come to write it, things often tend to add themselves in. And I would love to visit a proper beach, but unfortunately the weather is dismal, and I live in a landlocked county. I am very jealous of my own plot. Thanks for reviewing._

_Matthias Stormcrow: Good to hear you enjoyed, it's not all doom and gloom. Thanks for another review!_

_viola1701e: Thanks for the review. I was thinking the very same thing about Emmett; it is therefore going to be a while before they can make a trip to Britain. Or take him anywhere that involves a degree of social etiquette._

_Guest: Thank you so much for such a lovely review. It's always a great relief to hear people like my take on Bella; I wanted to make her more independent and self-assured. While romance is a big part of the plot, I love the relationships between the family, the odd things they get up to, and trying their very best to survive being immortal within a mortal world. Jasper and Bella will definitely have an interesting relationship; it's certainly not going to be an easy one. I am so excited about the reintroduction of George (nice one for getting that!) it's a way off yet, I'm planning to have it after the gathering of the whole family, and as the lead up to the big end plot that has slowly been building through the whole story so far. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p>Chapter Sixty Six: Domum derelicta<p>

April 24th 1935

...

"Now." The man stated primly, bouncing his fingertips together. "I know it's not quite what you were both expecting." Smiling that same god awful sneer that pulled skin tight against his protruding teeth. "But I wanted you to gage your mind toward the possibility of renovation."

"We really were looking for something completely furn-"

"I know." He interrupted me with an elaborate flourish of hands. "I know. But do not write it off before you have seen it." He walked on inside the derelict building, prancing away with no hint to whether we had followed. Not even bothered by the precariously hanging foreclosure sign above the threshold that swung dangerously in the light wind.

"Is he on some kind of illegal hallucinogenic, or is he merely delusional? For this appears to be a mere shack in the woods." I muttered, casting a general look of distaste at the crumbling, barely fit for habitation, three walled folly, before us.

"Your eyes do not deceive, unless mine do too." Edward replied, looking critically at the tree growing through the roof. "I was not aware we were buying the property from The Old Dark House."

"Good film though." I nodded. "Bad house...but this leaves us with a bit of a conundrum."

"How so?" Came his reply, as we waited nonchalantly on the old cracked paving slabs out front.

"I don't want to view this...house, but society dictates through sheer politeness we must."

"Ah, but do the constraints of society conform while on a honeymoon?" He questioned.

"I'm not entirely sure." I replied, curling a tendril of hair around my finger as it fell from my updo. "Even The Manual of Etiquette, Politeness and Good Breeding did not cover such a topic. But seeing as _there's nothing in the world like etiquette, in kingly chambers, or imperial halls, as also at the races and county balls_...Perhaps this should be one of those moments."

"Well we are at neither imperial halls, or country balls, just a shack in the woodland. I'm not sure Byron quite had this in mind when he quoted." Edward responded, continuing to stare at the fallen façade, much the same as I.

"Has that man noticed we are not following?" I wondered, listening to his footsteps grow ever fainter.

"He is to busy watching his footing; I don't believe there is a proper flooring." Came the information.

"Well this is just awkward." I huffed, scuffing the sole of my shoes against the weed ridden slabs. "To drive all this way for such a poor show."

"We could have stayed in bed."

"You jest." I grinned with a poised giggle. "Staying in bed past noon is unsavoury, and may lead to other such undesirable habits, such as becoming lethargic and apathetic." Doing my impression best stern voice. "And bloated, staying in bed past noon can make one bloated. How could I content to let you pick up such traits?"

"That manual was a joke, one I am seriously beginning to regret now." He muttered.

"Oh but why? I now have a guide to live my life by. Did you know I must never go up and down stairs, or about the house, with the speed of a trotting horse and the tread of an elephant; I must step lightly, quickly, and orderly. And thusly I will have a well-mannered house."

"And what if I dislike the well-mannered house? What if I like the disorder, and like staying in bed all day...for days?" He answered, whispering the last part to suggestively insinuate his meaning.

"Well then, the manual says I must stay well clear of men like yourself, aimlessly displaying their wanton ways." I replied airily, biting away the teasing tone.

"Ha." He almost barked. "Pot meet kettle."

"Are you insinuating with your idiom that I am of the...flirty, promiscuous kind?" I chortled, sardonically bumping into him with my hip.

"Indeed, it would seem that I am." He replied, toying idly with a strand of my hair, as we stood facing each other, still in front of Dracula's less than stellar summer home. "How about we make this more...exciting?"

"It's like you read my mind." I said. Barely finishing my sentence before forceful lips met my own, and hands were no longer within the realm of appropriate mannerism. Then again, these well-bred woman had never had a bed partner like mine, or a vampiric lust to content with.

But alas it did in no way progress to the expectable level, for the human eventually realised we were in no way following him into the death trap. "Sir, Madam, you must come and view these original features " He simpered loudly, scaring away a great flock of birds from their guttering roost.

We both muttered profanities in unparamount synchronisation, casting out a scathing look towards the man we couldn't see. I'm quite sure the thought of leaving lingered in the air for a moment, and our motorcar seemed to beckon us with the promise of an escape. But unfortunately our delightful Packard was parked behind the realtors detestible Ford T, and there was no sign of a way out down the narrow dirt lane.

And our personal house hunter was still sprouting his mouth about features and characteristics.

"I hope this man knows I am not above throwing a tantrum." I pouted with a sulky kind of frown. Straightening out my peachy coloured dress, and pinning back my messy curls.

"Let's just get this over with." Edward muttered. "Or I shall throw a tantrum." We proceeded into the folly with a less than sunny disposition, and subsequently a great deal of unpleasantness seemed to hang in the air. Given the surroundings, the lack of light; due to the sheer amount of nature covering every room, and the two very displeased predators in the room, the human noticed the change in the atmosphere very quickly.

While I was already contemplating scaring the man; just a little thought, and just enough to enable us to move on from this place, Edward had already found a more acceptable solution.

"We've just been scouting around the premise." He told the human. A fact the man could hardly dispute on the topic of our whereabouts.

"Lovely, absolutely lovely natural landscaping. Don't you think?" He gave no time for a response. "I think that the natural beauty of this establishment can't be rivalled, you will own two hectares of prime land in such an idyllic area." There remained a speck of lint upon his shoulder, to which I could not tear my eyes from. No matter how much he prattled on, or attempted to stand tall against the fireplace remains, the lint continued to aggravate me. So I had to look away.

I supposed we were within what once was the parlour room, but indeed it was merely remains. The floor had been torn up, now soil covered, leaf littered, nature infested. Several old cracked terracotta tiles remained in one of the corners, perhaps the original flooring. There was no ceiling, just timber juts where one should have been, I could see straight up to the whole ridden roof. Missing tiles and growing ivy, shedding light into the otherwise dark shell. At the very corner of the a-frame, clinging to the stone wall and rotting trusses, sat a mass of twigs and moss, it seemed the birds had deemed this ideal dwellings.

"Indeed." My husband nodded, agreeing with something or other the man had prattled about. "But it is very unfortunate about the state of the property."

"Oh. Yes, I'll admit it is not within the best of conditions-"

"Terrible, I would say." Edward interrupted him. "Not nearly big enough for the rest of our family, and while we could extend…this building is hardly within any condition to withstand such works."

"And we'd have to lay-down services." I added.

"While it really is an-"

"Excellent property. Really so very much potential." I finished for my other half.

"But I don't think this is quite what my brother-in-law had in mind." Edward said, fixing the man with the slightly warped truth. "He was quite insistent with his…requirements."

"You see my brother has just been offered a new job." I lied, using the sweetest smile I possessed. "At the state hospital, you know the one in town?" The man nodded his assurances. "And while we are so very happy for him, the job starts within a few months, therefore it is detrimental we find something we can move into quickly. But perhaps once we are settled I could mention this property to him."

"Do you have something like that upon your books?" Edward pressed.

The realtor quickly agreed that he did have such houses within the portfolio, available for viewing today if we liked. He was quick to dab away the perspiration from his brow upon getting back into his Ford, and Edward said the next house seemed to be more promising. The realtor had learnt his lesson for the day.

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><p>Indeed it was so; the next house was much more adapt to our needs. North east from Island Falls and half a mile from the shore of the Mattawamkeag Lake. The strange Tudor Revival style home was quite unique in comparison to the Cape Cod houses we had passed on the way. It sat on slightly higher ground, an eclectic mix of visible timber siding, gables, and exposed red brick.<p>

We were told the previous owners had been enthralled within the logging industry, and had moved North to Bathurst when the local trade wound down. It had been empty for several years now, and subsequently the price had been dropped a good deal from its original, the owners were keen to sell at this point. But it was a large house, with a big asking price; the housing market was only just starting to recover. I was sure it was not often people with such money came into the surroundings, other than good opportunities or outdoor pursuits, the area could hardly boast many recommendations.

That was, unless you were looking to buy a safe house.

It had floors and walls that were whole, tastefully decorated with some quite expensive wall prints. The rooms were of a very modest size, and would fit the bounty of furniture we had in storage. While it did not have a connection to the telecommunications network, we at least had running water and electricity. The nearest human dwelling seemed to be well over five miles away and overall I could not think of a better house for a newborn, should one ever grace our coven again.

Seeing as human civilization was so far removed, the realtor listened wisely to his instincts and allowed us to venture alone, keeping himself close to his beloved Ford.

Within an hour; after rigorously looking through the house, and perhaps sliding across the marble floor in my silks, we decided it was definitely the top contender.

By the time we had notified our estate agent to either expect a letter or phone call with our decision upon the property, it was late afternoon. So thusly we parted ways. He back to Bangor, and we drifted along the same way until stopping at a small town to fill up with gas and use the pre-pay telephone. Seeing as I was pretty proficient at using the technology, and lacked the skills needed to pump gasoline; because it was self-service, I went to call home and left Edward to do the dirty work.

I had to part with a quarter to make the out of area call, mashing in the appropriate code before being connected to a long-distance operator. I told her the state code, the area code, and finally our personal telephone number, receiving the delightful connecting tone as it rang through.

I hoped quite earnestly Emmett would not answer the phone, he had a habit of chattering on worse than Tanya, the novelty of such communications had yet to wear off. While it was entertaining to watch Emmett carefully pick up the receiver, introduce himself, before launching into bombarding the caller's ear off. It was not so entertaining to be _said_ caller.

By the time the familiar click of connection sounded, Edward had already completed his job and was now waiting by the car.

"Hello?" Came the voice in my ear, clearly aggravated that they had to answer the phone.

"Hello, Rosalie." I greeted.

"Isabella?" She questioned, being courteous enough to sound a little happier.

"The one and only. I'm surprised to hear your voice, no Emmett today?"

There was a slight crack in the earpiece and I gaged that was a huff. "Esme let him choose some furniture for his room; it came this morning while we were hunting. He's spent the past couple of hours putting it together." There was a pause. "It's still not done. And he's refusing to move until it's finished."

"So…he's doing it…slowly?" I wondered, coiling the rope cord around my finger.

"Human speed, he doesn't want to break anything." She replied.

"Well that is quite courteous of him…and it's keeping him happy and occupied at least. So how is everyone else?" I questioned. "All still alive? All well?"

"We're all good, still alive and kicking." Came her general answered. "It's kind of strange without the two of you here."

"Aww, is that your way of saying you miss me?" I teased.

"No. It's a good strange." She said dryly. "I don't have your bitchiness twenty four seven."

"I'm taking that as a compliment. And don't you worry; my bitchiness and I will be back in two days. Oh and Edward, best not forget to bring him back."

"I make no comment." Rosalie laughed.

There was a sudden commotion on the other end, and I could just make out Emmett's voice as he loudly questioned who was on the phone. A moment later and I was no longer speaking to Rosalie.

"Bella!" He called loudly, forcing me to hold the phone away from my ear a little. "Finally remembered us."

"Hello Em, how is the furniture building going?" Ignoring his jibe.

"I'm done." He said proudly. "I'm no furniture or decorating expert, but it's a job well done. But you can gaze admiringly at it when you get back."

"Will do." I responded automatically, not knowing the proper form of response.

"So how are you crazy kids enjoying yourselves? Getting in some…time alone." He attempted to whisper the last part, but the volume of his voice never changed.

"Oh Em, you know I don't kiss and tell. It might hurt your virgin ears."

He laughed a ridiculously long and baritone guffaw, and I immediately felt for those within the house with him, for the noise was akin to a roar. "I miss you and that strange accent Bella." He paused to laugh a little more. "Virgin ears." Tittering like a manic.

"Well it's good to hear from you too, Em." I tried, reluctantly inserting another quarter when the phone dinged at me. "Is Carlisle there, please?"

"Aw, you trying to get rid of me already." He responded.

"Sweetie, at a quarter every two minutes, you better shut up. Now is Carlisle there, please?" I begged slightly.

"Yeah, yeah, he's here." He muttered, before a slightly muffled, but by no means quiet yell for Carlisle could be heard. There came a much more dignified passed over, and soon I was speaking to the very person I had set out to in the first instance.

"Afternoon." I began.

"Good afternoon, may I just say you have picked an impeccable time to call for I have just come back from work." Carlisle announced, setting a much calmer tone in comparison to Emmett's.

"Well I do pride myself on my punctuality." I replied.

"I hope I can assume you are both enjoying yourselves." He questioned, skilfully ignoring the audible argument between Rosalie and Emmett. Although it sounded very one sided.

"We are indeed, the weather is good, and the place lovely. But I shall dictate all when we get back, for they are charging a ridiculous amount for me to make this call."

"You should have reversed the charge." He stated.

"Please, I only just managed to successfully make the actual call. Let's not go complicating matters." I said, inserting another quarter into the slot. "But I thought I'd make the require social call, and tell you about the house hunting."

"Well I always appreciate the social call." He notified. "How goes the house hunting then? Anything worth consideration?"

"We looked at the two you recommended, and then another two recommended by the realtor that seemed to fit our specifications…at least paper wise. Let's just say those were not quite what we were after."

"And the others?"

"The two you had in mind been were a lot more promising. The one out at Alligator Lake was lovely, really nice house, and land. But there is a cluster of farms not half a mile away."

"Ah, not greatly ideal."

"No. But the second house, the one up north, near Island Falls, seemed the best. It's probably a lot bigger than what we require, and it needs a little work…merely cosmetic though."

"Nearest human population?"

"A good five miles or so away. It's half a mile from Mattawamkeag Lake, surrounded by nothing but forest and marshland. Honestly I'm surprised the last owners weren't of our kind, it's reclusive alright."

"Sounds exactly what we're after." He hummed in agreement. "Were they willing to disclose a price?"

"With Edward, yes. But I implemented myself with enough force to be included. The realtor said the original price was a hefty eleven thousand and two hundred dollars." I disclosed, listening to his whistle of disbelief.

"I take it the price has since dropped? Unless the façade is solid gold." He questioned. I threw in another quarter.

"Indeed." I laughed. "But no solid gold and the price is now nine thousand, five hundred. But it has been on the market for nearly three years, so room for bartering. I have the entirety of the property specifications, dimensions, land, and such. So I'll bring everything back."

"That's excellent. And thank you both very much for taking time to do that, I hope it hasn't deviated you from your holiday." He commented.

"Not at all." I assured. "We've accomplished everything we wanted to do, and you know how much I love to pry into houses. I shall speak to you soon, for I am on my last quarter."

We made the subsequent goodbyes with mere twenty seconds left on the last coin, and I managed to make it back to the car, and eluding the sudden appearance of the sun from behind the clouds. "All done." I announced, falling readily into my seat and tossing my purse into the glove compartment. "I now have a useless bounty of copper pennies."

"I could hear Emmett from over here." Edward said. "I'm surprised you managed to get rid of him so quickly."

"Yeah, he hasn't quite grasped the concept of using the telephone yet. And I think Rosalie managed to pry him away." I responded, frivolously checking my hair in the small mirror on the sun visor. "We don't have any plans for tonight."

"Do you want to make plans?" He inquired. "No obsessive packing to do."

"I'll obsessively pack later, but seeing as it's our last chance to do something before we go home, and I'm forced to look at Emmett's new furniture." I commented. "And that is not even an innuendo."

"Furniture." He wondered aloud. "Is that what he was going on about?"

"Indeed." I confirmed, half muffled as I leant over the bench to retrieve my hat and gloves from the back seat, along with the Bangor tourist guide. "I'll swap hats with you, I like your fedora."

"No." He stated bluntly, taking his hat from my grasp and keeping it next to him. "You keep your own."

"Spoil sport." I decided falling back into my seat, still brandishing the recommended sights of Bangor and the surrounding area. "What to do…what to do?" A aloud mutter of indecision passed my lips.

"Theatre?" Edward suggested helpfully.

"Bangor opera house are tonight preforming…Madame Butterfly, oh goodness there is no such chance." I made a distasteful kind of face. "That is far too depressing; I don't wish to sit through such a thing."

"How about going down to the waterfront?" Came his second suggestion. "We never got a chance to go down there because of the sun."

"If it's a bore can we make an attempt to sneak back into that bar, or at least find another?" I bargained, folding up the tourist guide into a tiny square of unusable, unreadable paper.

"Is that a question or a demand?"

"A question." I tried innocently. "A question masquerading as a…suggestion." Attempting again in response of his scoff. "Alright, perhaps going back to the same bar is pushing our luck."

"They thought, and probably still think we are cigar dealers. Just to remind you." He stated, looking away from the road to give me his best pointed look.

"A job we would be brilliant at, by the way." I acknowledged, watching some young people in an old Dort make a failed attempt to overtake us. Silly humans. A Dort could barely make it past forty five on a good day. "And there are plenty of other places to have a brilliant time…We could even be that couple, the one that get way too touchy-feely, and forgets that they are within a public place."

"The one that everyone else awkwardly passes by?"

"Precisely." I stated. "See how my suggestion has so much merit-"

"Alcohol consumption, and indecent exposure." He added.

"All the best bits." I cheered.

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this." He sighed, with a shake of the head. "But I'm not drinking again." His decision was one I respected…to a degree, but he never said anything about being _that_ couple

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><p><em>AN: This chapter was such a chore to edit; I have some new text to speech and grammar software that is turning out to be a pain. The voice is so monotonous and makes my chapter sound so dull, it has problems with pronunciation, freaks out when I spell things the British way and is generally...a blah. Looks like I'll be resorting to Microsoft Words correction attempts. _

_Just a little chapter note: the manual Bella and Edward are talking about is 'The Manual of Etiquette with hints on Politeness and Good Breeding' by Daisy Eyebright. A self help guide for young ladies of the early 20th century. I thought Bella would take particular mirth with such a gift._

_Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!_


	68. Chapter Sixty Seven: Hospes

_A/N: I have been trying to have this out in under a week; I forgot how much effort it takes to get a chapter out in such a time frame. But I'm making attempts to meet my five hundred plus word target, while catching up with all the monotonous TV shows I've missed during my exams. As usual thank you everyone who has reviewed, alerted, and favoured the story. And in true fashion for my love of reaching milestones, we are very close to reaching two hundred thousand words! I can't recall how we've come to reach such a number._

_46 Husbands Later: Thank you so very much, how nice it was to get your review in my email box. I hope you enjoy the chapter._

_MissMartha: I do love a little bit of lively banter. Thanks for your review. _

_viola1710e: A nice big house for potential extra members, and I thought the same thing when considering the bedrooms. Let's hope Alice's visions keep her from Bella's wrath when it comes to claiming rooms. It would be a very interesting fight. Thanks for the review._

_leahmarie59: Thank you so much for the lovely review. I do love my slightly obsessive descriptions, even if they do take a small age to write. The relief of exams being over is fantastic, I hope yours went well, and you enjoy the summer holidays. A copy of the book, funny enough, belonged to my grandmother, who is a tad old-fashioned. I read through it and immediately thought it brilliant for the story, and for Bella's slightly cynical views on such things. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thank you for another review, I can always count on seeing your username in my Inbox! Hope you like this one too._

_CullenBoy123: Not to worry I love answering questions, and an update on the Alice, Jasper front, with the way things are progressing, they should be entering the story around….seventy two? Somewhere around that chapter, it's a little bit of an estimation seeing as my plans never stay on track. But I just need to first finish the Rosalie/Emmett storyline, then the slight time shift, and then along come Alice and Jasper. I hope this answers your question, I know my prior responses have been a little vague. Thanks for the review. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga. _

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><p><span>Chapter Sixty Seven: Hospes<span>

May 3rd 1935

...

I heard his unusual mutterings well before he entered the kitchen, something about an ink pen had perplexed him into a slightly aggravated state. So when Carlisle carefully swept into the room, holding his blue stained hands outwards, I had already guessed the problem. He was careful not to let any of the dye drip onto the floor, but skilfully tipped his hands this way and that, to counter the bitchiness of gravity, and to save himself the task of cleaning Esme's pristine slate floor. He turned on the facet leavers with his elbows, before throwing his hands under the water.

"That is a lesson against buying a cheap ink eyedropper, the blasted thing split in my hands." He declared, grabbing for the ivory soap and the scrubbing brush.

"It hasn't ruined your work, I hope?" I relayed, as I painted a crimson polish onto my finger nails.

"No, luckily I saw fit to do it over the blotter. And that caught a good deal of the spillage, the rest all over my hands."

"I sincerely hope this is not the beginning of an accident prone day, for you know how I attract such trouble." I countered.

"Touch wood." He announced, tapping his fingers against the window sill. I copied against the table. "I am about to send off the final paperwork with our offer for the house, so I hope this is no omen."

"Nah." I waved away his worry. "Our offer is more than generous; they would be fools to turn it down. Trying to play our hand by insinuating another buyer…such a jesting move."

He dried his hands on the supplied checked towel, before rolling up his sleeves to make sure none of the ink had travelled up his arm. "I can honestly say I was a little surprised that they turned down eight thousand. For a property of that size, I think it was quite a fair offer."

"Completely. It's greed, utter greed that they turned it down. And now inventing competition. I hope you have played them a little."

"Eight thousand, five hundred, cash in hand. They can accept or we walk away." He said, taking a seat opposite me at the breakfast table, and looking curiously at the little glass bottles all in a row.

"Brilliant." I praised him.

"Love, where did you put my hunting boots?" Edward called from our room; the sound of him rummaging through our closet was enough of a sign of his cluelessness.

"Which ones?" I called back. "New or old?"

"The black ones."

"The _old_ ones are in a trunk under the bed; they were cluttering up the shelves."

"Got them." He confirmed.

"Have you read this?" Carlisle questioned once by husband had quite finished. He gestured to the headlining article beneath by fingers, as I used it to protect the oak table from my crimson polish.

"Seems like they are adamant not to take any chances this time around, not that I can blame them, having to share a boarder with a country taking measures to rearm itself." I replied, shaking up the polish to disperse the coloured separation.

"I was surprised upon reading the article, rearmament is in violation of the Versailles treaty, is it not?" He took a seat opposite be at the breakfast table.

"I think there are several clauses agreed with the treaty that restrict Germany's military, navy, and air force." I confirmed.

"It seems only the French and USSR are openly concerned about such steps being taken. But maybe, like you said, it is because of their proximity to the cause."

"Well we both know both the British and American government thought the treaty to harsh; they will no doubt look upon this as a chance to increase trade with an increasingly wealthy Germany. But we cannot assume Britain are turning a blind eye, I think they too are uneasy with Germany's growth."

"They are rearming?" He guessed, looking up from reading the label on the blue polish bottle.

"While I cannot say for sure, yet since the success of the Bristol Blenheim, I received news from the development company that the air force has requested an order of thirty four units. And while I'm elated to be making money, it must be a sure sign the British aren't taking any chances."

"I suppose we can merely watch on then. Can I presume you are thinking of a heavier investment in the aeronautics trade?" He questioned, before turning to greet both Esme and Rosalie as they came back from town.

"You most certainly can presume so. But while I have no desire to further fund these increasing makeshift hostilities, I am considering investing a deal into the advancement of civilian passenger planes." I divulged, swapping the polish and alternating the colours on my nails.

"Thought you were going hunting?" Rosalie questioned, stalking into the kitchen with her usual style.

"I was planning to, just waiting on Emmett." I told her, blowing lightly on my fingers in the hopes of speeding up the drying process.

"He's painting his walls, blue I think." Carlisle announced the question that was sure to follow.

"I think it's more of a steely blue, almost grey." I countered. "He said he could no longer live with the mauve."

"He's such an idiot." Rosalie muttered quietly, gracing us with her presence at the table and stealing the blue polish.

"Did you get everything you wanted in town?" Carlisle wondered, glazing skillfully over the previous comment.

"Most, all the generic things. But the car search was void of any kind of success, and the car dealer was such an annoyance. Following us around like a lost sheep." She clicked her talons against the table.

"What did you look at? Pontiac, Buick?" I pried. "Don't say you even considered a Ford."

"No Fords. But we looked at the newest models at the Pontiac and Hupmobile dealerships. Am I being stupid or have automobiles always been so expensive?" She dabbed almost violently in the air with her finger.

"How much for a new one?" Carlisle queried, getting up from his chair to take the shopping bags from Esme.

"Are you talking about the prices of those cars?" Esme joined, beginning to unpack the bags, delegating to Carlisle where the items lived. Rosalie and I nodded in synchronization. "The price of those Hupmobiles was outlandish." She declared, signaling to her husband that the laundry soap went in the bottom cupboard.

"So I'm not being stupid, then. The prices were ridiculous." Rosalie admonished.

"Will someone tell me." I demanded childishly. "Carlisle and I are on tender hooks."

"Alright, alright." Rosalie acknowledged, waving her hand in my direction. "The thirty four, Hupmobile Saloon, brand new, with a five liter engine. Try one thousand and fifty four dollars."

"Are you serious?" I called her out. "That is…that is almost the same price as a house, albeit a very small house, but a house nonetheless. Three hundred more than we paid for the Packard."

"A victim of inflation." Carlisle added. "It seems that the motoring industry is finally having to increase their prices."

"Everything is becoming so expensive." I moaned. "I expected inflation, but not for it to happen so fast, and over such a short period of time. I need to reconsider my financing."

"Are you poor?" Rosalie questioned with her raised brow.

"Why? Can't you be friends with poor people?" I replied, attempting to mock her facial expression with an uneven brow raise of my own.

"No. But I'm trusting you with my investments so you had better not be going bankrupt." She threatened; a trusty bit of intimidation to fix her point.

"Don't you worry." I placated with a sly smile. "I'm far from declaring myself impoverish, very far. I just need to factor in this increasing inflation into my figures."

"Isabella, your Vogue." Esme passed me over the extremely shiny copy, but Rosalie, with quick hands, was faster and grabbed the offending item.

"Thanks, Esme." I acknowledged, but never taking my subsequent glare from the blonde. "You had better not crease those pages."

"Thought you were budgeting, you can't afford the things in here." She waved the magazine in my face.

"I never said anything about budgeting," attempting to grab it from her hands. Unsuccessfully until Emmett chose that moment to announce he had finished his decorating, the sheer noise made us all wince, and I was able to grab my item back. It was shortly followed by the telltale footsteps of our largest coven member as he seemingly bounded down the stairs, arriving at the threshold of the kitchen with his usual happy countenance.

"How's it looking?" Carlisle questioned him.

"Awesome, now the room is no longer that weird purpled colour." Emmett replied, looking a good deal proud of himself.

"Mauve." Esme supplied.

"Yeah, mauve is not my kind of colour." He nodded in assurance, whether to himself, or to us was unclear.

"You ready to go hunting?" I questioned, holding my magazine close my chest. "I've been waiting for ages; my eyes are so dark I'm beginning to look demonic."

"I'm ready." Emmett declared, rubbing his hands together and sporting a boyish kind of smile. "But are you ready to lose spectacularly to yours truly."

"I'm not competing against you anymore." I told him bluntly. "You have an unfair advantage, and you cheat. Stealing my food."

"You are a very sore loser, Bella."

"You just watch yourself, Em."

* * *

><p>From the moment we venture outside the accumulating clouds seemed to roll in ever darker, and a warm storm had begun to rumble dangerously above the mountain range to the north. To escape the approaching trouble we headed south, with an idea to hunt deep within the national forest. With Emmett within our pack, Carlisle, Edward, and I, were forced to keep tabs upon his hunt.<p>

With two members down we had to wait until he was finished till we could take a turn, and with a penchant for taking his time savoring each kill, it always seemed to take an age. While a confident and natural kind of hunter, Emmett seemed to lack any such coordination regarding a destination. No matter how many times we warned him to avoid heading south west, he charged in any and every direction that presented game. He had neither the control nor determination that Rosalie had as a newborn, and portrayed the usual disregard and impervious behavior of a problematic youngster.

We could not pretend otherwise, or ignore that he was difficult when it came to hunting. He was never left alone, and we followed him closely at all times, staking out directions to herd him away from possible civilization.

To date we had almost had two near slip ups, and were only able to stop the potential macabre ending for two humans due to Edwards ability. Since then we had moved our hunting area from the Pisgah to the Nantahala National Forest, a wider expanse of land and further away from humanity.

It was such that Edward was always slightly in front of Emmett position, constantly listening to his ever changing and displaced hunting thoughts. While today Carlisle and I ran on either side, slightly behind, and ready to cover all the areas.

He took down three or so deer from a passing herd, but remained disgruntled by the lack of anything carnivorous. Moaning and kicking at the ground like a petulant child.

Courtesy invoked, I was the first to go hunt by myself, leaving the gentlemen of my acquaintance behind and running out of the immediate area. The national park was nothing but a sprawl of pine, fir, and cedar trees, encompassing the hills and mountains over the half a million acres. Knowing Emmett's less than stellar ability for stealth had most probably scared away the majority of the wildlife, I chose to run along the steep hill crests, try to approach a meal from a higher vantage.

From this point I could see the formation of straight trees in the distance, lining the road that ran through the forest, connecting up Waynesville and the city of Hendersonville, some sixty miles away. It never seemed to see any traffic, since there was a much quicker route via Asheville. But I made sure to keep away, noting to run no further that the adjacent valley crest, and leave a good three thousand fathoms between the road and myself.

Akin to a style Emmett had perfected, I leapt from a rocky outcrop and directly into the tree canopy. Only stopping my free-fall to the earth when I managed to gain leverage on a strong enough tree limb. It held out until I propelled myself forwards, then split and splintered with a noise very much like gun fire. But the force gained was sufficient for me to hit the valley floor with increased speed, outrunning a sounder of wild boar, and towards the large game.

The bear I found was too occupied eating a small forest rat to notice me, and by the time I had struck could only argue with an angry roar and swiping claws.

I seemed I had taken the hunting win for the day.

Thusly I made the journey back to the agreed meeting spot feeling smug, and a plan to gloat until Emmett gave up in defeat and hopefully cried. Although that was more wishful thinking.

Once I made the crest of the hill again; and having gained back the brilliant vantage point on the area, there came a strange noise from over the valley. It sounded much like a tree falling, but much more metallic, and a bazaar crunch. Seeing as my penchant for getting into awkward situations was legendary, I was keen to turn a blind eye and carry on. But the crunch was soon followed by the continued blast of a car horn.

I did stop. Trying to see the road and what I guessed was a car accident. There was no smoke to signal any kind of fire, just the long, continuous blare of noise that amplified across the basin of the hill. But as my ears made attempts to narrow down the location of the noise, it was suddenly gone. And a hollowed silence soon followed.

Knowing my help would be the wrong sort, and my control was no way strong enough to deal with spilt blood should anyone be injured. I set back onto my course, determined to find Carlisle and let him know. But for the second time my ears were accosted by another unpleasant sound, at first it sounded like a hawks scream, for they were extremely prolific within the park. Yet the ongoing uneven tones and its high pitch was enough to cut through the tumultuous storm clouds. With an uncomfortable realization and twisted face, I identified the sound as being a little more morbid, a little more human.

Idly I lingered listening to the screams echoing loudly, unsure as to wait or flee in search of the others. But as soon as the noise had begun, they too turned to silence and only the rumbling of the present thunder could be heard. Minutes passed with nothing. Morbid curiosity kept me rooted to the spot, fixing my eyes onto that line of trees and subsequent road in the far distance. Nothing else transpired. Nothing but the sudden lashings of rain, a swirling gale of wind.

Eventually I gave up waiting; the issue was not worth my trouble, and the risk of my control. So I passed back over the ridge, running parallel with the road before pulling west. By the time I had reached the flat land, the rain had soaked me completely, plastering my clothing and hair to my skin. Running directly into the wind did nothing to help my ragged appearance, and I gaged I looked half wild.

I reached the paused group with an added flourish, deliberately stopping with a heavy jump, and dousing Emmett with the muddy water.

"Aww Bella." He whined, making an attempt to wipe the splattering's from his face.

"Sorry Em, but you had that one coming." I grinned, removing the wet tangles from my forehead.

"How far did you go out?" Edward questioned. "You were gone for a while."

"Ah, the strangest thing happened, while I was out by the gorge. That's why I took so long." I replied, trying to wring the water from my shirt. "I think there was some kind of crash out on the Blue Ridge Parkway. There was this loud crash, and a blaring horn. Then as I was heading back some kind of scream. Thought I'd come back, rather than getting into any trouble."

"A human scream?" Carlisle frowned in contemplation.

I nodded. "I thought it might have been a hawk at first, but I know a human scream when I hear one. But it went on and off for no more than thirty seconds, then nothing. It was strange."

"How far down the Parkway?" Carlisle questioned, looking ready to take immediate action.

"I was directly opposite the road, and about four miles southwest of Richland Balsam." I replied with a wince, as the rain blew directly into my face.

"Before or after the curve in the road?" Edward queried, his hair seemed to repel the water unlike mine.

"Just after, I think it was along the straight portion. But I can't be sure, the sounds were-"

"Guys." Emmett addressed. "Can you smell that?"

The three of us automatically inhaled deeply into the wind, but its forever changing direction made identifying a source almost impossible.

"What did it smell like, Emmett?" Carlisle pressed carefully, watching the burly vampire.

"He says it smells like mace." Edward informed us. "And floral."

We considered Emmett with extreme caution, moving a little closer to him without raising alarm. A slight force to step in should he make an attempt to engage with the phantom presence. I could not partake in the silent conversation between Carlisle and Edward, and had to remain content with acting on sheer instinct alone.

But Emmett gave us the needed answer, from his chest he let out a low and hollow growl, dipping ever so slightly into a crouch. Facing into the depths of the forest, and sensing something our dulled ones could not.

"Another of our kind." Edward announced, having picked the sudden identification straight from his mind.

"Emmett." Carlisle warned the newborn, standing with an imposing proximity at his arm. "Cordial behavior, we don't wish to engage in an unneeded fight."

How patiently we waited amongst the lashings of pelting rain, it was not until the wind violently changed towards us that we could finally sense the approaching presence. The vampire smelt just as Emmett had dictated; mace and cocoa, but the floral undertones he had mentions seemed very harsh, chemical based and false. Like the perfume counters at the department stores. I presumed a female vampire would pass our way, one with a penchant for cheap human bottle scents. Yet the footfalls were so heavy, that it suggested the oncoming force was decidedly male.

The vampire seemed to be following the track I had set just moments before, and with the wind traveling alongside him was unable to notice we had stopped. He shot through the trees with swift grace, only noting us at barely fifty yards and having to force a halting stop.

The male stood stoic at twenty feet away, eyes bright with a recent human kill, and a wide smile upon his face.

"It's been a while, Carlisle." He greeted.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Just thought I would replay a notice about the introduction of Alice and Jasper (I know how much people love them!) with the way things are going… their arrival should be around chapter seventy two or so. I'd give a more receptive answer, but my chapters sometimes seem to write themselves, or go off on a tangent. So that is my best estimation at the moment. _

_Thanks for reading, hope you can review. _


	69. Chapter Sixty Eight: Amicus

_A/N: Wow two hundred thousand words, that is crazy! And because I always seem to compare my word count to the Harry Potter series, this story has hit the size of the Deathly Hallows. Which being said makes me wonder how long it would take to read this story from start to finish, seeing as I'm always writing in real time I've never had the chance to time it. Thanks everyone who is still following the story, you guys have the patience of saints. So keep up those reviews, I absolutely love hearing from everyone._

_viola1701e: I shan't ruin the fun by telling you who this mysterious visitor is, but all shall be revealed within the chapter. Thanks for the review._

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thanks for reviewing, I'm always happy to know you enjoyed the chapter. Hope you like this one too._

_Holidai: Thanks for both of your reviews! I love writing about house hunting, everyone has that degree of nosiness when it comes to looking around houses. And I think we needed a boost of Emmett, I kind of missed writing him in. Banter is always fun, they are a regular family just with an immortal twist. I was doing research for random things, and I found out types of nail polish originated in China around 600BC, but it became commercially popular after the development of car paint in 1917. And American Vogue published its first copy in 1892. _

_CullenBoy123: It's like you can honestly read my mind, I thought people may presume it was a member of the Volturi. But like you said the Volturi do not travel alone. All will be revealed within the chapter. Thank you for your review._

_46 Husbands Later: I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long. Thanks for the review._

_EmmaD1998: Oh my goodness such a lovely review, you have succeeded in putting a ridiculously happy grin on my face. Thank you so much for the nice comments. I'm so happy to know you like the story, and you like the directionality of the characters. I really wanted to write a story that no one had really tried before, so you have definitely made me feel like I've succeeded. Hope I haven't kept you waiting too long!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga. _

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Sixty Eight: Amicus<span>

...

"Indeed it has been a while, Amos." Carlisle replied, revealing neither a delight or dislike towards the visitor.

He stood at a lofty height, a good couple of inches taller than Edward, but build far lankier, almost slender and thin in his constitution. To seemingly match this physicality, his facial features were also very slim, with high cheek bones and a pronounced cupid's bow. I found it difficult to put a definite age to him, there were no wrinkles on his face, but I judged a rough estimation of between thirty and forty years of age upon change.

Amos, as now he was identified, wisely did not move closer, keeping the twenty yards as was. Four against one, plus the addition of a newborn, were not favourable odds.

"Some eleven decades at my count." He replied, keeping a close eye on Emmett as he shifted slowly from his crouch. "You seem to have found some like minded people."

"Yes, I have been extremely fortunate." Carlisle confirmed, remaining appeasing and pleasant. "I hope those decades have been kind to you also."

"They have been sufficient enough; I still travel, as I have always done." Amos responded, displaying a closed mouth smile. "I suppose you are wondering what I am doing this side of the pond?"

"I'm curious, is Europe not treating you well." Carlisle wondered.

"I've been over this side a while now, decided a change was in order, the Volturi are keeping a tight noose around the whole of the East. Can't even go for a hunt without running into one of their guard members, they're everywhere. And from all the good words I've been hearing about the America's, thought I'd give it a shot." His accent fit the description of his whereabouts, the thickness reminisced something heavier than that of the Denali sisters.

"Still keeping an eye on the Romanian's." Carlisle summed, nodding his head lightly.

I wondered if the Volturi had found the information they required after our little meet and greet all those years ago, it was strange how interested they appeared to be in my creator and his involvement with the two brothers. Yet Horace had never insinuated being involved or having an alliance with the liked of Vladimir and Stefan. And even after reducing the once strong Romanian coven to nothing but two isolated members, the Volturi still considered them a threat. Perhaps there was indeed something going on, something the rest of us were ignorant to.

"Allow me to introduce my family." Carlisle said.

He passed along the affronted line we had made, acquainting each one of us in turn to this new visitor. And through the sheer fact Carlisle seemed on pleasant terms with the man, I replaced my usual terse nod of greeting for a more agreeable one.

"Nice to meet you all." Amos affirmed, running a hand through his soaking hair and pushing it back. "I hope I didn't disturb your hunt, Isabella?"

"Not at all, I was quite finished." I replied. "Although, can I presume you may have been behind the incident on the Parkway?"

He smiled, ignoring the rain that dripped from his hairline and down his nose. "I shall put my hands up in acknowledgement, for even with such years beneath my belt, I confess to being an extremely skill-less, opportunistic kind of hunter."

"You have disposed of the body, sufficiently?" Carlisle pried carefully, seeking out the information without appearing demanding. Emmett shifted about his weight, never taking his amber eyes from the gangly vampire.

"Not to worry, I've played by the rules." Amos responded, waving away the worry like a true traditional drinker. Little care for the wellbeing of anyone, an archaic feeling I could once have related to. "And if I'd know this was your territory I would have kept far from the boundaries."

"Forgive me, I don't wish to seem abrasive in my questioning, it's just my family and I obtain permanent residency within the area. We are currently occupying a good fifty square mile radius." Carlisle informed. "From Asheville to Waynesville, Waynesville to the boarder."

Amos whistled in acknowledgment, the noise only just heard over the rumbling thunder. "Big area." He commented.

"We are a fairly big coven." Carlisle defended, attempting to wipe the water from his eyes. "Six of us in total."

"Well, well." Amos laughed with a bark. "I wholly believe you have proved that you are not quite as insane as we all thought. No longer a strange hilarity."

While Carlisle displayed nothing but a general unreadable expression towards the insult, the rest of us shifted uncomfortably at the comments. It was the first time we had come face to face with the isolation of our family patriarch, before the rest of us came along I supposed his ideologies and practices were extrinsic. He was forced to make acquaintances with strange vampires, such as the one before us.

"I suppose your _hilarity_ should be further savaged, upon learning there are indeed even more of us. A whole other coven." I added, finding it difficult to keep my mouth shut and remain civil. This man clearly had no idea to the level of degree in which we held Carlisle. And I was never one for social etiquette.

"You seem to have extremely loyal members, Carlisle" Amos commented, overlooking my jibe.

"Truth, and you better believe it." Emmett declared, rolling his shoulders forward and increasing his presence.

There came an awkwardly tense moment, in which the thunder cracked, and the lightening buzzed overhead. Edward move closer to my side, his hand finding mine and allowing the rain to accumulation between our laced fingers.

"Why don't you come back to our house, Amos?" Carlisle quickly interjected, making a valid attempt to displace the slight hostilities. "You can meet the rest of the family, and we can continue our discussion out of this dismal weather."

Amos took his stoic crimson gaze away from Emmett, acknowledging the suggestion with a nod. "That sounds like a plan." He said.

The run back was strategic arrangement, one that I fell to the back of, not liking being exposed to someone I didn't know. I kept an eye on Emmett who was now running a little way to my right and forward, but his attentions were no longer on hunting, strictly keeping his watch upon Amos. I at least had Edward nearby, near enough to reach out and grab should I have the inclination.

"Who is this man?" I accosted, making a futile attempt to wipe away the water on my face, but my equally soaking sleeved did nothing to help. "Should I try to be a little nicer?"

"From what I can gather, they met several times when Carlisle was in Ukraine." Edward replied, keeping his voice to a whisper.

"Friends? Or mere acquaintances?" I queried, gathering as much information as I could pry into.

"Acquaintances. He seems, all in all, to be generally pleasant. There are no murderous intents, or aims to deceive." He finished, adeptly scaling the land we were forced over.

"In other words, I should at least try to be pleasant." I countered, catching my footing as I slipped on the saturated ground. "Try not to cause trouble. Best behaviour. Hear that, Em?"

He looked over, tearing his eyes from visually attacking the lanky vampire far ahead, and considering my comment. "I make no promises, this guy is weird." Emmett told me, looking far more seriously than he could usually recommend for himself. "I don't like him."

"Let's attempt to be civil at least." Edward replied. "We don't want to cause an unneeded confrontation."

"Especially near the house." I added. "Esme will rip you to shreds if you damage the house."

"Yeah well, he had better watch himself." Emmett muttered, not bothering to avoid some small spruce trees and ploughing on through.

As we neared home the weather continued to get progressively worse, as the storm rumbled on directly above. Lightening cracked loudly, and the scent of singed wood identified a nearby strike. Every part of my body was soaked, the fabric of my clothes clinging horribly to my skin, my light jacket did nothing to ward away the rain. I needed to buy a decent waxed jacket and a new pair of rubber boots.

Sincerely I looked forward to the feel of a cotton towel, and a hot bath to wash my poor hair. Something I would vehemently fight my husband for, or share, I could share.

There was further insult as we had to stand outside our own house, while Carlisle went inside to divulge Rosalie and Esme to our appearing visitor. I could already predict the reaction of the former; if I disliked new people, Rosalie loathed them. As predicted she wandered out behind Esme, casting a fleeting gaze to the new vampire, before shooting a disgusted look towards the weather. Wisely neither ventured beyond the cover of the veranda, and instead presented an image of our domesticated life style.

Everything seemed so very pleasant, final introductions were made between everyone, and Amos was able to meet Carlisle's mate, and our resident Miss Chipper. Esme was kind enough to offer up a spare towel and fresh set of clothes to her guest, disappearing to collect the items while we were all shepherded into the kitchen by Rosalie.

"You can drip on the stone floor, but don't get it on the carpets." She dictated, dumping the towels on the table.

I removed my boots and sopping jacket, placing them in the deep Belfast in the utility room to drain away. Wringing out my hair in the sink for good measure, and trying to get rid of as much water as possible from my blouse.

"You look terrible." Rosalie told me, lingering at the threshold.

"Thanks, you look peachy too." I replied, running the hot water faucet in the secondary sink in preparation for the laundry. "It's awful out there, worse than those storms a couple of months ago. I almost drowned in a couple of puddles they were that deep."

"Only knee deep?" Rosalie jibed, spinning her blonde hair around her finger.

"Har-har." I muttered, fighting with the urge to splash her. "Now move aside, I'm off to go make myself pretty. You could always make yourself useful and wash my things, if you're feeling particularly courteous?"

"I could do." She mused. "But I just finished painting my nails; it would be a shame to see them chipped."

Before I left the laundry room, she grabbed my forearm and stopped my tracks. Cocking her head towards the kitchen, and then raising her brow in question. "No idea." I mouthed, shrugging my shoulders at the same time. She nodded to state she had understood, and thusly we parted ways.

I went to clean up, but having an unexpected, unknown presence within the house made everything so very vexatious. Hopefully this little catch-up would be decidedly quick and we could rid ourselves of this person, on generally polite terms.

* * *

><p>He was extremely pleasant. Perhaps I had been a little hesitant at first, a little cautious at having him within the house, but I could not have been more wrong in my initial observations. Rarely had I met such a charming individual, and I was seldom sold on people.<p>

Since the on-going storm looked set to linger over the next few days, an invite had been extended to the now dry and re-clothed Amos. He accepted to stay until the worst of the storm had passed, or he was in need of blood again. I admit to having been a little put out by the news, as a slight introvert in my nature, having to think of polite conversation starters was surely against my jurisdiction. And perhaps I went out of my way to avoid him, stayed in my room accomplishing mundane tasks. But eventually I had to stray downstairs to collect my washing from the sink.

The electricity had gone down soon after our arrival back home and with it the convenience of the washer machine. So I was forced to resort to a primitive hand washing. With Carlisle and Amos conversing in his study, I deemed it safe to move from my room and venture outwards. Taking the stairs quietly, passing the rest of the family within the parlor room, and setting about gathering the laundry soap, and soda ash.

I had to stand upon my tiptoes to reach the very bottom of the Belfast, leaning over the great porcelain sides to put in the rubber plug. It took a while to fill half full, and in the mean time I may have gotten a little carried away with the soap. But after finding the old wash board hidden under the sink, I set to work on the mountain of rain saturated fabric. One by one I washed, and wrung out each item, before hanging them limply on the supplied drying horse.

Through the loud game of craps happening in the parlor, I almost missed the sound of approaching footsteps on the stairs, but in-between Emmett's yells of 'cheat,' they were audible on the creaky bottom three.

The footsteps hit the checked marble floor in the hallway, before eventually and indecisively choosing to come into the kitchen. I pretended not to notice, leaning further forward over the sink to scrub the last of the dirt from my blouse. A little blindly and a little obsessively rubbing the soap block against the washboard. Hoping the sound would drown out the ever nearing footsteps, and make me appear so terribly busy towards the face of social convention.

"There really was no need for you to do mine, I would have done them." Amos said, lingering at the threshold much like Rosalie had done.

"It's alright." I countered, wiping away a fallen strand of hair with the back of my hand. "What's a couple more items?'

"Thank you then." He responded. "I don't usually make all new acquaintances wash my clothes, promise."

"Well, as punishment your clothes shall now smell of lavender." I smiled, gesturing to the discarded soap packed on the draining board. "Hope you don't mind."

"I'll admit it is not my favorite, but I'm just grateful and shan't complain." He jested, inspecting the washing machine with slight curiosity. "I also wish to apologize."

"Apologize?" I tried, playing the slightly naive card in the hopes of not coming across presumptuous.

"Well, one for disrupting your hunt, and the second for me jesting about Carlisle. Tact was never my strong suit." He admitted.

"I'll accept both, for tact and social niceties are not something I regard with my recommendations. And I'm fairly terrible at making pleasant first impressions." I admitted, wringing out my blouse and folding it over the clothes horse. "So I apologize also."

"Seems we are even." He nodded. "In all honesty it is nice to see Carlisle with like minded people, and Esme seems like a perfect match for him."

"I think they are the nicest people one could ever meet. Perfectly suited to each other." I agreed, standing on my tiptoes to remove the plug. Still keeping a wary eye on the man standing less than two yards away from me. I washed my hands and the subsequent soap scum from up my arms, before taking the dry towel he handed to me.

"You have been with them long?" He pondered, keeping his hands clasped behind his back.

"A while." I replied vaguely. "A decade or so in total." Adding a little more as to not appear rude. I wondered if it was perhaps the visibility of my scars that gave away I was not sired by Carlisle, or maybe he has been informed by the man himself. "How did you and Carlisle meet?"

"Twice in passing." Amos responded, gesturing towards the kitchen, an insinuating the continuation of the conversation. I nodded and followed him into the larger room. "The first instance was when he was attending medical school in Kharkiv, the second shortly after he had left the Volturi."

"I have always wondered what Carlisle was like back then." I mused, forfeiting taking a seat to stand instead by the patio doors.

"I can hardly recommend myself as a close friend, but he was certainly very different from other vampires I had met. Refined, manners, a friendly sort, perhaps a little reclusive." Amos declared, standing at the opposite side of the room.

"Reclusive...it is far from the Carlisle I know today." I replied, running my fingers through my slowly drying hair, braiding and unbraiding the tendrils in rhythmic fashion.

"Maybe reclusive is not the correct term...we have a word in Ukrainian but the translation is not so good into English. Perhaps reserved is better. But I don't think that was by choice, most traditional rabid nomads thought he was strange." Amos admitted, running his hand through his short brown hair in a strange mirror of my own habits. "I'll admit even I."

"I can't preach to you." I acknowledged. "When I first met Carlisle and came to the house, I thought it the strangest thing I has ever seen. And had I not realized we shared the same diet, I think I would have considered him the most bazaar person I had ever met. But I was lucky enough to be spurred onwards by curiosity, and once again the promise of a new set of clothes."

"Ah." Amos laughed. "So that's how they entice you in."

"I got a new set and never left." I joked.

Our conversation was loudly interrupted by Emmett hollering about a cheater, an accusation I could almost guarantee was directed at Edward; unless Esme was playing poker, for she never lost.

"Are they always so noisy." Amos questioned, peaking around the kitchen door and towards the general direction of the game.

"Afraid so, although saying that most of the rowdiness is a result of Emmett. He has...a way with words."

"And he likes Rosalie, yes?"

I could not help but smirk at this. "Is it so painfully obvious?"

"Very, I tried to speak to her earlier and he was very keen for me to keep away. She reciprocates?"

I most probably shouldn't have been gossiping so openly with a complete stranger, but his slightly gawky being, and artless direction of topics sadly reminded me of myself. "I think she does, it's always hard to tell with Rosalie."

He nodded as if understanding her character type perfectly. "They will declare themselves sooner rather than later, I may have little experience in such a field, but they seem to fit each other in an odd sense. She will keep him in line, I think."

"We can but hope." I replied, wincing as he once again loudly demanded Edward be removed from the card game.

I discovered through conversing with my new friendly acquaintance, he originally hailed from Kherson, Ukraine. A victim of the Koliyivshchyna peasant rebellion, although he could not pinpoint the exact date or year of his change, he guessed roughly around seventeen seventy. Since that point he had led a nomadic existence, traveling where ever he liked, while constantly attempting to avoid the likes of the Volturi. After making the decision to travel over to the Americas, he hid in the engine bowels of RMS Carpathia on one of her regular Atlantic crossings, an entire five day crossing.

Unfortunately while I thought him a very pleasant person, I could never be friends with St. Louis Browns fan. Then again at least he wasn't a Chicago White Sox supporter.

I invited him to come and join the game of craps in the parlor, which I was now quite sure had turned into poker, and thusly warned him about Esme. While he confessed to having little practice when it came to gambling, Amos agreed to try his hand. Having him join the room was initially a little strange, and I admit quite tense. But the selective mutism of the family was broken when Amos began to tell Esme, Rosalie and I, about the delights of Europe.

While we avidly listened to his tales, Emmett and Edward continued to be extremely unsociable. And several times I was sure my husband was communicating with Emmett, telling him Amos's hand of cards. I tried to give them my best pointed look of suspicion, but they never make eye contact with me. But any attempt to outsmart the older vampire were void of success, for Amos had already managed to wrangle the seat right next to Rosalie, and was now using his brilliant position to take up all her attention.

Emmett's sore looking face was a sight. That would teach him about stealing food from me, and taking his time to declare his interests towards Rosalie. Amos was a crafty one.

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><p><em>AN: Wow it's done, two hundred thousand words, officially. Along with a great three hundred and ninety reviews! And how nice to was to write a nice vampire for a change, they are all normally so blood thirsty and savage, so it's great to have a friendly nomad passing through. I also like to think Amos is kind of like the male version of Bella, although much more polite and courteous. Perhaps that's the reason she considers him a friendly acquaintance. _

_Thanks for reading, hope you can review! _


	70. Chapter Sixty Nine: Ucraina

_A/N: Thanks to everyone for the reviews, alerts, and favourites, we're now just two away from four hundred! My writing is now occurring in my garden for the weather has been ridiculously hot and sunny, and I feel like a pale sickly creature finally being exposed to the sunlight; surprisingly I have not turned to ash, just turned a little crispy. And as you can imagine the British people are having the time of their lives discussing this strange weather event. But regardless let me thank everyone personally._

_Holidai: Good to hear you like Amos, at first I did consider writing him as the usual angry, savage kind of vampire, but I liked the idea of coming across someone a little kinder. There must be some nice nomads out there. Thanks for reviewing another chapter, nice to hear your thoughts._

_EmmaD1998: Thanks for taking the time to review and good to know I didn't keep you waiting too long. Hope you like this chapter too._

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thank you very much! _

_46 Husbands Later: I'm glad you picked up that little reference to the Carpathia. Although he did come across on the same ship attributed to the saving of the Titanic passengers, Amos made the crossing on one of her routine crossings from Liverpool to New York, around 1905. So he didn't meet Bella…then again Bella was never on the Carpathia (which is a whole other part of the plot.) _

_CullenBoy123: Like I said you are either reading from my plot book or I'm becoming predictable. I really kind of liked a slight male version of Bella; I think it's the slight awkwardness of them both, their mannerisms and such. While Emmett (and even Edward) may not like him, it's all for the good of a couple. Thanks for the review._

_Lady Eagle: Glad to hear! Thanks for reviewing. _

_viola1701e: I should imagine they are escaping somewhere, perhaps over to the Americas, or to Russia and the Far East. The idea of a vampire swimming across the Atlantic is a humorous one, but I suppose those who cannot commandeer a ship, or stow away in one, will have to swim. Thanks for the review; you have certainly made me consider the speed in which a vampire can swim. I wonder how long it would take, or to even walk along the bottom?_

_Dazzle me in purple: It's always nice to hear from a reader, and thank you so much for the nice comments. You have succeeded in making my day. I'm delighted to know you like my take on the characters, and my slightly obsessive writing style. Hope you continue to enjoy. _

_Jo: Hello! Welcome to the story, glad to have you. I can wait to get to that part of the plot, it's going to be a while coming yet, because we are just about to start on Alice and Jaspers story line. But I have been writing out plans and scenarios for how it's going to occur. And I'm sure I'll include Emmett and his baseball in there somewhere. Thanks for the review._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span><em>Chapter Sixty Nine:<em>_Ucraina_

_May 6th, 1935_

_..._

_..._

_.._

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"So you just presume Isabella is your correct name, he never told you otherwise?" Amos queried, hovering his white pawn over the chess board.

"Something like that, he - and the others I woke up to find, all called me Isabella. Initially, I thought of no reason to question it, and was hardly within the right mind to even consider it might me wrong. I had no interest in recalling the past. But as time went on, I came to realize he was…well a bit of a sadistic bastard, the lies he told people." I shook my head in recollection. "Giving someone a false name was not below him."

"Do you like your name? I mean, did it..does it feel correct when people call you by it?" He countered, finally placing his piece down and playing his turn.

"I guess, but it feels right now because it is the only name I have ever known. But at first…I can't even recall those first memories. But it's my name, I have made it my name, and everyone knows me by it." I replied, clicking my black piece against his and knocking it over. "Now another question for you."

"Go ahead, I have no secrets." Amos declared offhandedly, gazing ardently at the board.

"Very well, keeping to the theme we are discussing, I have to ask you about the name Amos. I was expecting something a little more…Eastern European." I commented, linking my hands beneath my chin and looking at him expectantly.

He looked up with a slightly coy look. "You have unearthed my most converted secret."

"So I am correct, Amos is a sort of _nom de plume_." I pried, waiting for him to play the next move.

"Nothing as fancy as a pseudonym, I'm afraid. Just a little dislike for my name given from birth, and it does not sound so good over here in the America's. Does not _roll well_ with English speakers." He admitted, knocking down one of my pawns with a tap of the ivory against the ebony.

"Well, now you have caught my attention, do not keep me in suspense. I beg you."

"You are bulling such responses from me, _odyn_." He sat back in his chair, placing both arms on the craved rests and considering me with a critical eye. "I suppose I could give you my well-guarded name."

"You simply must. Is it brilliant? I bet it is." I nodded eagerly.

"No, no." He shooed away my declaration. "I have disliked it since I was a child, and had the misfortune of having four older brothers who all like to tease me mercilessly."

"You have my word that no teasing or unkind words shall pass through my lips." I offered, lingering over my game move in the hope he would indulge my curiosity.

"Just tell her." Rosalie sighed loudly, lounging on the fainting couch and flicking aimlessly through my magazine. "You will never hear the end of it otherwise."

"Extremely true." I confessed to him. "I'll even make sure no one else in this house divulges it to anyone else."

"All this build up, I fear you shall be sorely disappointed. It is terribly nonplussed." He taunted, gesturing for me to continue to take my turn. "I shall tell you for your trouble. I was unfortunate enough to be named after my grandfather, Oleksandr Lytovchenko."

I clapped my hands together once and declare it to be a wonderful name. "Why should you wish to drop it?"

"I went through all my human life being taunted by my brothers with the name Oksana, because they sound similar, this is girls name, I detested it. After I became me, properly, I used the name Fedir for a while. Then decided upon Amos, it was very popular at the time. Now I have been as such for a long time, far too long for me to change it again." He explained, watching the board with a critical eye, before wearing a triumphant smile, moving his piece and declaring. "Check mate."

"You have done well, sir, distracting me from play with such tales." I responded. "Patience or concentration has never been my forte." Carefully restocked the board, making sure all the little chessmen were facing the correct way, and all were equally centred within their squares. Amos watched my ordering carefully, considering my hands and seemingly judging the placement, but he did not comment on my compulsive act. Eventually, when I presumed he deemed my act satisfactory, he took to the floor, pacing behind the couches and stretching out his incredibly long arms.

"I'm surprised to have not found your other half's breathing down my neck." He said.

"The skill of Esme, you see." I told him. "As Carlisle is away at work, she needs subsequent lackeys to get the things from the attic."

"I could have lent a hand." Amos replied.

"You're a guest, so Esme wouldn't have let you." Rosalie interjected, finally reaching the end of the stolen magazine and tossing it carelessly onto the low table. Strangely overlooking the _other half _comment without so much as a call of denial.

"Still, I like to pay my dues, seeing as I'm encroaching on hospitality. I do not wish to gather the reputation of being some kind of lazy overstaying house guest." He stated, ambling over to the bay windows, stooping low as to not hit his head on the wall.

"Don't worry; some of us are quite blunt here. If you overstay your welcome, we'll be sure to let you know." Rosalie educated him.

"I am glad to hear of it, and may I presume it will be either of yourselves that will be giving me the proverbial heave-ho. Or perhaps a physical one from Emmett."

"You can almost count upon it." I responded. "I'm going to go check on the attic move; I have some things up there that I'd rather see undisturbed."

"Well, it can't be money, because you're bankrupt." Rosalie jibed, spinning her hair around her finger and displaying a sugary kind of smile.

"Ha." I barked out a laugh. "Try telling that to my offshore account keepers, and my stockbroker." Feeing the room as she usually did, before anyone else could reply with a sarcastic remark.

I found Esme on the second floor landing, surrounded by a horde of furniture, antiques, and boxes of miscellaneous items. With due care and attention I picked my way through the mass of objects that had come from the house in Rochester, viewing all the things that had been small enough to be stored in the attic. All the bigger pieces were down within the basement. Directly above me, I could hear the footsteps walking in the upper space. The heavier of the two remained humorously slower paced, and I could predict a good deal of deliberation and care was being taken as to not fall through the ceiling.

"It is a wonder how all this fit up there." Esme announced, gesturing to all the things surrounding her. "I honestly cannot recall how all this fit into the old house. Are you quite sure the Maine house is big enough?"

"Definitely, the rooms may not be a spacious as we're used to, but there are plenty of them. I'm sure we can find a place for everything here."

"Esme, what do you want to do with this creepy portrait?" Emmett called down from the loft space.

"That's the Volturi." Edward informed him.

"Why do we have a massive, and extremely sinister, painting of the Volturi?" Came Emmett's well placed question.

"It was a gift." I informed aloud, listening to the approaching steps, before Emmett's head and shoulders appeared upside down from the loft hatch.

"Bella." He called, looking around expectantly for someone else. "Where's Rose?"

"Downstairs." I replied rather bluntly. "With Amos."

I watch as his face turned sour, and his amber narrowed in vexation. With all the skill of some kind of primate, he swung down from the attic, and dropped himself to the ground. "I don't like that guy." He muttered to himself, stalking his way down the stairs to no doubt keep a close eye on Amos.

"Isabella." Esme warned, but supposed scolding of my behaviour was void when her lips lost to a smile. "You are becoming devious."

"Who me?" I feinted innocent, running my hand along the frame of an oil painting. "Never. I'm just being my usual cynical joking self. If two people; whom I shall not name, happen to declare themselves because of me, I shall announce it as a happy accident."

Esme nodded her head slyly, and I wholly took that to mean she supported my methods. Even if they were a little calculating, but sometimes people needed a little well-meaning push to get them to the right place. I liked to think I was the purveyor of such instigations.

"Do you need a hand?" I questioned. "Seeing as I've chased away your help."

"Well, we're almost done, but we've left your items. If you want to go sort through them, see if there is anything you want to have moved up." She responded, opening a box with a fine set of Royal Doulton porcelain.

"Can do." I agreed.

The gap between the landing and the loft hatch was far greater than I, and knowing I should never hear the end of the jibs if I requested a ladder, I implemented my best immortal stance. Jumping upwards until my hands reached the ledge, and I was able to pull myself up.

There were several large boxes into the very far corner, identifiable as mine due to the familiar curved scrawl of my hand. Stacked alongside were two old traveling trunks, knowingly filled to the brim with clothes, both mine and Edwards. Covered in a thick dust sheet, and leaning against the rafters, a number of paintings I had brought with me from the house in Toledo. I was quite sure there was even a small taxidermist mouse somewhere in the horde, one within a glass case that Edward refused to let me have in our room.

"We need to sort through these things, look at the clothes." I announced to him, throwing a spare sheet over the Volturi portrait. There was something very odd about sorting through clothes, and undergarments, with the three brothers grim watching on.

"Has he decided to leave yet, the storm has long since passed over." Edward replied, doing what I'd asked and pulling one of the cases from the stack.

"I'm sorry I didn't know you were channelling some of Rosalie's snark, or perhaps it is my cynicism rubbing off on you, because that was a very snide remark." I responded, swinging around the roof strut.

"It was merely a question." He told me bluntly, sliding the case full of my clothes towards me. The great chest hit the front of my indoor pumps, compressing the very front of them until they touched my toes. I'll admit I was a little annoyed when he didn't look up, or notice my plight. So I placed my foot on the leather bindings, and roughly shoved the case back in his direction. Successfully hitting the side of his legs as he knelt down. "I thought you wanted to sort thought them?" He responded.

"I have." I decided. "Don't want them, any of them."

"How do you know?" He countered with a degree of curt reasonability. "You never even looked through them, that's some six years' worth of things." His palm pushed lightly against it, and once again the trunk slid across the wooden floor boards, this time stopping just before my feet.

"I'm the one who packed them, so I know it's full of crappy hunting gear." I replied with a bout of annoyance, jamming it rather hard toward him.

He looked at the offending item as it struck his legs for the second time, considering it for a moment. "You're angry with me." Came his attempted answer.

"I'm not angry." I told him, tapping my shoes against the ground in the hopes of uncompressing the bend in the toes. "I'm just a little miffed at you being so unscrupulous, don't you want to be social and make a new friend."

"A friend." He replied, declaring it as if the word itself was an abhorrent term.

"Yes, you know a person attached to another through mutual affection or regard, one who is on good terms with another." I tried, curling my finger around the strands of my ponytail.

"I know what a friend is." He replied, rolling his topaz eye and shaking his head at my escapade. "I just didn't realize you considered him such."

Sometimes his adhered behaviour confused me, he had the ability to be in his own little world, listening to the thoughts of others and acting in a way he thought best. Yet there were other times; such as this one, where his blatant grudging and jealous attitudes were obvious. I had the tendency to react with my usual lack of grace, when it came to such feelings…I could recall one or two females I had sent packing. But my better half was more dignified when it came to polite environments, maybe not skillful at hiding his dislike, but generally more dignified.

"Don't worry." I stipulated, biting the flesh of my cheek in an attempt to hold back the sly smile. "Even with Amos's entertaining stories and wit, I still consider us first friends."

"Good to know." He muttered in response, seemingly unperturbed about my declaration.

"You are in a brooding mood today." I told him with a huff. Moving across the old creaky floor boards and coming to stand directly behind his kneeling form, I could not resist resting my arms on his head. Watching him diligently attempting to sort through a pile of precisely folded items. "You can't wear these things anymore."

"Why not?" He questioned, trying his might to grab a hold of my arms.

"I don't like them on you anymore, that's why you have new clothes. Esme says we can donate these ones to the Salvation Army." I said, batting away his hands. "But you can keep the boots, there's nothing wrong with them. And I think my old wax coat is at the bottom of that one, I want to keep that, save me buying another."

"Anything else?" His hands were quick against my deflections, holding onto mine to stop the slight assault on his already unruly hair.

"I want to move the big nightfall painting of the Thames, to Maine. Esme says I can hang it in the hall. I think it will be nice to display it."

"But the painting of the creepy horse, and the strange stuffed mouse wearing a smoking jacket are staying in the attic, right?" He replied, linking our fingers together.

"They are sweet." I argued. "The horse is not creepy, it's a famous race horse. And how could you possibly hate the little mouse, it's wearing a velvet jacket and smoking a pipe."

"I have never heard of Velocipede the horse, so why do we have an eerie oil of it looking like it's about to eat the strategically placed goat."

"The goat is there as a sizing ratio." I educated, loosening hands to haul off the dust sheets and pull out the painting I wanted.

"So…those who don't know the dimensions of a horse are not confused. And please, let's not have the discussion about the mouse." He replied, wrapping his knuckles against the class case as if the creature should spring to life. "How unpleasant."

"It's unusual and unique." I countered.

"Its eyes are made of glass beads, because its real eyes have rotted away. And its internal organs have been with replaced with excelsior. It's exceedingly unpleasant."

"It's smoking a pipe, and I think that's adorable.

Unfortunately for me both the painting and the mouse had to yet again stay put in the attic, but I was planning on secretly smuggling the taxidermist mammal out of the house and having it sent up to Maine, perhaps installing it into our room without his knowledge. But the rest of our bounty was sorted into a much smaller pile, the clothes placed into some old flour sacked we had mysteriously lying around. I was able to move the money I was hiding under the floor boards from its useless wooden cigar casket, and into a metal box.

Esme even pondered over sending the Volturi portrait up north, we would no longer have to live with it hovering suspiciously in the loft space. And should an unexpected visit ever occur, at least we could say it was there for educational purposes, should another vampire join our cause. Strangely Edward and I agreed upon this particular item.

I made my descent from the loft space, although it was more of a fall if I was honest. And there came one moment in which I hung from the loft hatch by one arm, then had to attempt something graceful when Carlisle suddenly appeared on the landing. He made no comment regarding the incident, to which I was glad. We made the usual pleasantries, I asked him about work, and he gave me a summary. Announcing if anything particularly interesting or amusing had taken place.

"I fear trouble is afoot." He said, after losing his medical bag; complete with gilded initials, into his study.

"Fear as in…the Armada are coming, or something to a lesser degree." I challenged, moving aside as Edward made a ridiculously agile drop from the attic.

"Is this a scale? Armada being very bad to…my wireless vacuum tube has cracked, being perhaps the lowest?" Carlisle replied.

"I like that." I decided. "A family scale of trouble, now where does this trouble rank?"

"I think Emmett needs a scale of his own." Edward muttered, having already read the situation and ruined all the fun.

"Well, it's certainly getting rather tense down there, I'm not quite sure of the situation. But I've never seen Emmett so serious." Carlisle responded, doing well to include me with a quick relay of the events.

"I would go defuse the tension, but we all know my skills do not lie in such a place. And I have faith in Rosalie that should he get out of hand, she can put him in his place. If not Esme is there also." I engaged my two cents.

"Maybe it will defuse itself. "Carlisle interjected. "Amos has announced he is to make tracks this evening, I should hope Emmett can remain civil enough until such a time."

"He is to leave so soon?" I questioned, unable to hide my displeasure at such news. "I thought it would be another day or so."

"He has already been here three days." Edward muttered.

"Afraid so, the storm has passed over now and he is looking to hunt." Carlisle said, ignoring Edward as I did.

"Does he know where he is heading? Does he have set plans?" I queried.

"I do not think Amos is the type to make plans, he tends to travel where ever he likes." Came the general reply, as Carlisle kept half an ear on the goings on downstairs.

"I am disappointed." I decided aloud. "But I suppose I cannot assume that all have such rigorous plans like us. We are an exception."

"I have crossed paths with Amos upon three separate occasions, on two different continents. Who is to say we will not see him again." The forever optimist declared. I did not mention that there had been over one hundred years between the crossed paths, my pessimism announced aloud only made me more disappointed. "And maybe I have something akin to a distraction?" Carlisle said, fishing around in his waistcoat pocket.

I humorously thought it may have been some terrible magic trick, but instead he presented me with a letter. "I think Tanya has branched into a new letter writing set." He told me.

And indeed this envelope was void of its usual floral boarders, instead along the creases an extremely elaborate Art Deco style pattern. "She did mention something about the postal office no longer stocking her favorite…I see she has amended that with something very…"

"Flamboyant." Edward supplied.

"I like it though." I decided. "It's very distinctive of her character. And no doubt I shall hear all about it within."

I left for the library just as Rosalie began to berate Emmett over some matter; no doubt regarding Amos. And both Carlisle and Edward decided a little bit of enforcement was needed, and descended down to the parlor.

From the slightly higher vantage pointed on the chair in front of the sloped writing desk, I had the most delightful view of the lawn out back, and with it the ridiculous number of birds that had flocked onto the grass. Every time there was even a drizzle of rain, flocks and murders descended onto out grass to eat. I was not overly fond of birds, from a distance I could admire them, but when they flew overhead I could sense an accident waiting to happen.

Partial way through a paragraph recalling Tanya's adventures with a postal boy and her new writing set, the flock of feather fiends began to screech violently. Their wings cracking as they suddenly took flight, startled by something in the garden. It was only when the cloud of birds dispersed into the air that Emmett was visible, storming up a pace along the path and down to the summer house.

And not merely a hand of seconds later, Rosalie followed. Stopped at the top of the path, hands on hips and undoubtedly glaring at something that displeased her. She called for him. But he had rather childishly implemented himself within the little pagoda like hut.

I moved away from the window, instead choosing a rather crafty viewing point out of sight, next to the curtains.

"A perfect vantage point, _odyn_." Amos announced, ducking through the doorway.

"I take it this is your doing?" I questioned, moving the curtains ever so slightly to one side to watch her stalk down the path.

"Perhaps." He replied slyly. "I just hope I haven't overdone my theatrics, but just one more little push before I'm off."

"What did you do?"

"I innocently proposed Rosalie should come off on an adventure with me." Amos said as he ambled around the room, considering the volumes of Plato's theorems, before studying an old world map we had framed on the far wall.

"So that is why he is sulking in the summer house." I implored, smiling as Rosalie almost bust down the door.

"Yes, I should certainly think so." He said, narrowing his eyes towards a certain destination on the map. "I've come to say farewell."

"Oh? Right this very minute. Carlisle said you were off tonight." I wondered, dropping back the curtain in my hand to give him my undivided attention.

"Thought it best I head off now, keep myself from any possible altercations. I do not fancy my chances against Emmett. He is still in his newborn phase, and I am told has prior experience in a fight. Now consider me." He gestured down his person. "I am high in stature and long in leg, designed to flee."

"Then… I suppose this is indeed farewell." I reluctantly decided. Realizing the difference between us existed not in superficial height or age, but within the way we dealt with situations. It was two sides of the fight or flight argument. "Do not hesitate to announce yourself should you find that you are within our designated area, I'm sure Emmett will eventually forgive you." I told him.

"I hope you are right." He nodded, straightening out the waterproof jacket we had supplied him with. "Can this old man impart some wisdom, before he leaves?"

"You may." I confirmed. "Although I warn you I do not take well to criticism."

"Noted. You can regard or disregard this option...But I do not think you should so idly give up on looking towards the past." He began, continuing even when I narrowed my eyes. "For I have come to find that likely hood and statistics are mere numbers, and stranger things have happened than a vampire finding out their past."

"And how should I go about such a thing." I challenged.

He shrugged. "Do not give up. Do not close your mind to the possibility. I have been around for a great while, and have witnessed some extremely strange things. No doubt you have too. Who is to say it should not fall in your favor?" I did not reply. For I had no beliefs when it came to such favors. "That is all I have to say on the matter, I shall keep an eye and ear out for you. And I wish you luck, with current ventures and those to come."

"Likewise." I agreed.

"I hope I am able to reap the rewards of my hard work with Emmett and Rosalie." He added with affirmed nod.

"Then, I sincerely hope you survive long enough to meet with us again."

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><p><em>AN: So glad to have this one out, it took ages to write out the ending. I shall miss Amos, but undoubtedly I should hope to have him included later on in the story, sadly I really did just use him as an instrument, to force some movement on the Emmett/Rosalie front. I feel I need to write him with a mate next time, maybe he can find another well-meaning nomad along the way. _

_Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed, and reviews most welcome. _


	71. Chapter Seventy: Judicium

_A/N: It's a heat wave, and I 'm getting far too used to waking up to the sun…which is just not right. But enough weather talk, because it's all I've been hearing. It has been a strange week for writing, I was looking out for some inspiration, so decided to go back and edit the first couple of chapters. Cleaning up the grammar, making things sound better, slightly cringing at my old writing style, the normal thing one does when recalling the past. So I'm cleaning up my computer files, finally doing that back-up (the one I really should have done ages ago,) and I strangely came across the beginning of a document I started quite a while back. And seeing as this is chapter seventy, and we have reached four hundred reviews, I decided to finish it and upload it. _

_Once again I have fallen into my great love of writing historical chapters (kind of like going back to an old boyfriend?) and looking once again at the sequence of events for the mortals, after my Bella's death. Guilty as charged. But rest assure we shall be returning back to the realm of immortality after this one. _

_Thanks to those who have reviewed, alerted, favoured, and how exciting I have gained access to another community! _

_46 Husbands Later: First reviewer, hope you don't mind my little detour first. But the next chapter shouldn't be too long. Thanks for reviewing. _

_Dazzle me in purple: Absolutely love getting your reviews. I am a little sad to have Amos leaving us so soon, and you picked up on the mate's thing. I did consider Bella perhaps sending him off with the mention of the Denali's; however I have other plans for Tanya. So I shall definitely have to devise an exciting mate for him to bring along to the next meet and greet. Thanks for another review!_

_viola1701e: Jealous Emmett is a great character to write, I like to think he should be extremely childish when dealing with such emotions. As for Edward, with another male taking away Bella's attention, and her classing him as a friend, some definite brooding going on. I think the taxidermist mouse is going to make an unexpected appearance somewhere, I like tormenting Edward with Bella's strange obsessions. Thanks for reviewing._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga. _

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><p><span>Chapter Seventy: Judicium<span>

Royal Courts of Justice, London, July 2nd 1913

...

"Good morning, good morning" The gentleman began with a droll kind of tone. As he sat, his powdered white wig bobbed ostentatiously upon his round head, its pompousness confirmed by the frizzed top and curled sides. From his higher woolsack, he was able to gaze upon those within his courtroom, and cast a slightly distain look toward the press within their own personal gallery. "May I first present the parties, prior to the arraignment of charge for the benefit of all standing. In this case we present the plaintiff, Mrs Swan, versus the defendant, White Star Line of Boston Packets." He gestured to the claimants.

They stood on address. "The complainant is represented by myself, Mr Walter Brown, of Coward Chance, and Mr Herman Linklaters, of Linklaters, who sits to my right." Mr Brown announced to the court, his long black robes pooled around his being as he took back his seat and awaited the defendants.

"White Star Line is upheld by Mr Joseph Bruce Ismay, the company chairman, and Mr Alexander McHugh, one RMS Titanic's designers, and understudy of the late Mr Andrews. On behalf of the defendants I, Charles Burlingham of Burlingham, Montgomery, and Beecher, shall be representing."

The high judge nodded his head slowly, looking down his half-moon spectacles to jot down notes within a ledger.

"If your Lordship would allow for the arraignment to now take place?" Mr Brown questioned, standing once again with his many papers spread across the bench. A glass of water and crystalline jug wobbled each and every time he took to the floor, the ice cubes clinking together like a pace setter.

"Yes." The Judge agreed, pushing his glassed up his nose and straightening his posture.

"In the trial of Mrs Swan verses White Star Line. The charges of negligence, in relation to both speed, and the inadequacy of lifeboats numbers, on the Royal Mail Ship Titanic. Relating to the night of April 14th and early morn of April 15th nineteen twelve, in which the steamer was lost. Other dates shall be bought into question regarding the plans, and decisions made before the steamers collision. Thusly the plaintiff is implementing their case on the loss of both a Mr Charles Swan, the claimant's husband, and Miss Isabella Swan the daughter. To the sum of one million pounds, and court costs to the sum of eighty four thousand pounds." Stated Mr Brown. There came a hushed ruckus, as the press began to violently scribe down the proceeding events.

"Quiet, please." The Judge announced, cracking his gavel again its sound block. "Will the defendants please stand." Both men did ask requested, pulling at their crisp black suits. "Are you Mr Joseph Bruce Ismay?"

"I am." Affirmed he.

"Are you Mr Alexander McHugh?" He questioned the second man.

"I am." Came the second affirmance.

"Mr Ismay and Mr McHugh on behalf of White Star Line, you are here today on the following indictment. On count one of the indictment, you Mr Ismay must account for the accusation of forced excessive speed relating to the collision of RMS Titanic amongst the ice sheets on April 14th nineteen twelve, and thusly the loss of the husband and daughter of the plaintiff. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty." Responded Mr Ismay.

"And to Mr McHugh , on the second account of the indictment, you must account for the charge of insufficient lifeboat capacity regarding the early morn of April 15th and subsequent dates beforehand, in the case of both Mr Charles Swan and Miss Isabella Swan. How do you plead?"

Mr McHugh was clearly visibly shaken, his facial hair twitched above his lip, and perspiration was visible. "Not guilty." He gulped.

"You lying cretins." Came a great holler from the public gallery, where a man of great height gripped on tightly to the banister. "Scum." He yelled again, thrusting his fist into the air.

"Silence." The Judge bellowed, slamming his gavel against the block. "I will have silence in my court, or you shall be removed, Sir." Members of the press still violently scribbled down as many notes as they could, filling up pages and pages of shorthand notes.

The claimant looked on with a sadistic enjoyment, dressed from head to foot in exquisite black and the handsome Whitby Jet, the vision of the darkest of mourning. She cared not for the behemothic sum of money on the case, she only wanted to watch White Star Line suffer, to wither and die at the hands of the public. She wanted those who cut corners to be publicly ostracized, branded as the criminals they were, and to be forced to compensate those who did not have the money or influence to go up against such Maritime giants. If this case did not go her way she would spend the rest of her living days suing them time and time again. Until White Star Line was classed as nothing but the blacklisted fiends that they were.

Sat either side of her were two of London's finest, men who comprised and served the legal team of her husband's shipping company. Offering up their services when she came to them with the case. These were gentlemen she trusted, men she had once invited to dinner, sat with their wives and discussed silly things. They had been fine friends of her husbands, and they were keen to impart justice as much as she.

The company her husband had owned and diligently worked to so hard to make prosperous, had been left without its head. And through the declaration of her husbands will, the company was supposed to have passed to the young George Marvin, to be mentored by the chairman should his passing be premature. But with young Mr Marvin now also gone, and by default of the legal bindings, she found herself in control of a shipping company. A company she knew nothing of.

But her husband had always been the cleverest of men, always thinking of the future. He had planned for such an occasion. The most senior of chairmen would uptake the position of Chief Executive Officer, and she would remain owner.

She knew nothing of shipping, maritime rules, or regulations, she had been a mere doctor's daughter, and a silly headed wife. But she was learning, listening and attending meetings, reading books she would have never even glanced upon. And it gave her life a purpose, continuing on the work her husband loved so dearly. And through the things she had learnt, the principles, the decrees, and the morals of life upon the sea. How much better she was now equipped to deal with the language and codes discusses within both the inquiries, and here now in the trial.

But there were many other issues that crawled around her thoughts, problems and predicaments that poured down upon her. In the fifteen months since _it_ had happened, she had unwantedly become the head of the family. Or subsequently what was left of them. Now both the Master and the Mistress of the houses.

She was no longer delegated a mere sum of pin money to keep her, now she possessed ownership of the entire family income. Money from the company, the estates. The business may have been taking care of itself, but the estate in Kent needed almost constant attention. Not only did she receive an income from the house, grounds and tenant farms, but there were people who needed to be paid. A whole list of house staff, kitchen staff, grounds keepers. Not to mention the staff within the town house. Payment to the bakers, to the butchers, to the seamstress, to all those who supplied goods to her. Once upon a time, she would have never considered such ideas of payment, never had she ever considered where her food came from, or the price. As long as it was the very best, she was content.

How many times had she sauntered into the seamstress, selected any fabric she desired, and placed an order. Never once had money been discussed, every bill was sent back to her husband, and he fitted for the cost. Now that correspondence landed at her bureau.

And for the first time in her life, she had to sit down and think decisively about money. She had requested aid from the house steward in Kent; he was well educated in such fields and was teaching her about running both her houses.

It was not an easy task, she had no real formal education when it came to mathematics, her father could afford none. So it had come to be that Margret had taken up the task of tutoring her, teaching the very basics before going on to more complex sums. Eventually they had sat down with the house figures and gone through each one, the house steward watching on diligently.

Through these newly acquired skills she had been closely watching White Star Line stocks, collecting information about their year annum. And when it came to discussing how much she wanted to requested from the fiends, the figure had already been decided upon. One million pounds, she had declared. For in nineteen twelve White Star Line had made nine hundred and ninety thousand , she would take each penny they made and more. With a loss of earnings, the loss of _that_ ship, and a reputation as black as her jet, she would eradicate White Star Line from ever trading again.

"Mr Ismay is first to take the stand." The Judge declared, and as dictated the requested man took to the dock. From her side Mr Linklaters arose, he pulled tightly on his robe lapels and dominantly presided over the oath.

A court official presented the holy book to the man. "I swear by almighty God that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." Mr Ismay declared.

"And to the Jurors: Do you swear by Almighty God that you will well and truly try the accused and give a true verdict according to the evidence?" Questioned the Judge.

"I do." Resounded the replies.

So began the onslaught of questions to the accused, witness after witness took the stand, evidence was given steadfast. Statistics, documents, blueprints. A constant flourish of objections, being sustained and overruled.

"The answer is simple Mr Ismay. Was the possibility of a Blue Riband discussed at all on the Titanic's maiden voyage? Yes, or no." Mr Linklaters pressured.

"It was not possible for the Titanic to reach such-"

"Yes, or no, Mr Ismay."

"Objection, My Lord. Inflammatory pressure." Called Mr Burlingham.

"Sustained on relevancy charges. Mr Ismay you are required to answer the question." Declared the Judge.

"Once again for the benefit of the jury, was the possibility of a Blue Riband discussed at all on the Titanic's maiden voyage? Yes, or no." Mr Linklaters repeated once again, his smile at the accused was something raptorial.

"Yes." Mr Ismay declared with a reluctant air of disbelief.

"Indeed." Paced Mr Linklasters. "So the feasibility was discussed. Now I know and the jury know that Titanic could not possibly collected the converted Atlantic crossing title, she only had two reciprocating engines, and a centerline turbine. And for the benefit of the jury, that means she could not even consider besting the likes of the Cunard Line's Lusitania…but how nice it would have been for Titanic to arrive in New York a little early. I suspect a faster record crossing for such a passenger ship, getting there far quicker than the Olympic would have been a real prize for the media coverage, and undoubtedly…an excellent financial boost."

"Objection." Mr Burlingham demanded. "That is speculation with a lack of foundation, where is the evidence?"

"Overruled, Mr Linklasters. Unless you can present some evidence." The Judge called, looking down his glasses at the man.

"Withdraw." Stated Mr Linklasters, casting a sly smile to his bench. "And no further questions for the defendant." He took to his seat, slowly pouring himself a glass of water and taking a leisurely drink.

The two men at her side seemed assured that this would fall her way, with their brutality within the courtroom, their less than moral ways in which they practiced their job. But of course things could still change in direction, the accused had yet to deliver their defence, and she knew well enough their lawyer was cunning, the best New York could afford, a prominent man with a long list of shipping clients.

He would undoubtedly use the verdict dictated by both the British and the US inquiries. Both trials were complete and utter whitewashes, in which a company to fault were not held accountable for their crimes. Only mere suggestions were given. Both the British and the US Board or Trade agreed more lifeboats should have been provided. And while she agreed with the scorn forced upon the Captain of the SS Californian, in relation to his poor moral conduct regarding the use of his Marconi wireless operators. She recalled screeching in vexation, and still held on tightly to the purity of her anger, regarding the utter injustice of the report: _not guilty_ they had declared. Evidence had been given, evidence that proved corners had been cut, and yet no one was held accountable for all those deaths.

Not an ounce of compensation was to be paid out. All those poor victims who were not as fortunate as herself, the widows who had lost their main source of income. Having to depend on the kindness of the public, and the blessed relief fund. That's where a good deal of her money was going. Once she had collected the fees she had claimed for, and subsequently paid off her lawyers and the cost of the court, the rest would be placed into the fund. It could not bring them their loved ones back, but perhaps it could make life a little easier.

She just hoped her loved ones were looking down upon her, and they were proud of her actions. More than anything she prayed they would all be reunited one day, to be with her husband, and to have her only child back.

But for now, in this very moment, she would implement her own justice. No matter how long it took.

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><p><em>AN: I cannot help myself. I really like giving characters a back story, and I adore writing about Mrs Swan. Maybe I should give her a set of one-shots or something? But onwards, I promise the next chapter we shall be back to the Cullens. Finishing up the Emmett/Rosalie thing, and then on to Jasper and Alice. _

_Thanks to all those who a reading, hope you enjoyed the chapter._

_Please review, I really do appreciate each and every one of them, no matter how long or short. Love to hear from my readers ,and getting your thoughts on the chapter. _


	72. Chapter Seventy One: Nativitatis

_A/N: It has been a very interesting week, I've been off editing the earlier chapters and now have finished Chapter three and four. And I've been immersing myself within the realm of the forums, and found some absolutely delightful people. I cannot recommend them enough, if anyone has any problems, they are so super helpful. But as always a big thanks to everyone who has reviewed, alerted, and favoured the story. Also a big hello to all those who have joined. _

_46 Husbands Later: All shall be revealed later on in the story, regarding what happens to Bella's mother and whether or not a reunion is on the cards. Thanks for the very first review._

_BadassEri90: Every time you review, you managed to give me the inspiration I need to write. I therefore cannot thank you enough for all the amazing things you have said about the story, the compliments, and the way you seem to understand my aims. I cannot imagine the end of this story; it has become such a fundamental part of my life, I'm constantly thinking of plot ideas, going over scenarios in my mind. I will be so terribly disheartened at the end of this saga. But I'm so excited for the addition of Alice and Jasper, and looking forward to exploring the new relationships. I don't think it's all going to be fun and sunshine, immediate best friends and understanding. Once again, I thank you for the support!_

_viola1701e: Indeed, it is such a devastating end to such a ship, and tragic end for all the lost lives. I'm absolutely fascinated by the Edwardian period and subsequent years just after, so being able to write these extra chapters about Bella's past is a treat. Thanks for the review._

_CullenBoy123: Thank you for reviewing. I should think Amos will be making a comeback later, I've written him in to make another appearance later on. Everyone seems to like him. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thanks for reviewing!_

_Holidai: Glad you liked the history, I absolutely love writing about it. And thanks for reviewing._

_MJElliot: Welcome to the story, I'm glad you like it so far. Hope you continue to enjoy, and thank for all the reviews. _

_Jo: Thank goodness for your keen eyes on my mistake, indeed he did die on the ship, and subsequently I have made some tweaks to the last one and corrected that. Thanks so much!_

_blood soaked t-shirt: Thanks for the review, hope you enjoy. _

_Guest: It's nice to see Rosalie depending on Bella for once; I really wanted to have a capable main character, and one who can be depended on. I was always kind of disappointed by Bella and Rosalie's relationship in the book; they never truly had a close bond through mutual understanding, more through force circumstances. So I guess this is how I wanted it to progress. Thanks for the review. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Seventy One: Nativitatis<span>

December 20th, 1935

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It was an overcast, damp, and mercilessly bitter cold day, in early December. Summer had long since passed, and seemed more a distant memory, or a far off occurrence. Seeing as it had been a poor and atrociously wet sort of season, it felt as though we had been cheated out of the warm sunshine. For approximately one week prior to this date the snow had rolled in, and for two or three days there had been nothing but a continuous fall. Blowing violently in every direction with the ever changing wind and the weight of the frozen precipitation.

Although the newspapers and the wireless announcers harked on about such dreadful weather occurrences and the humans about the town did nothing but discuss the treacherousness of the roads. It had really been the most ideal six months for us. Since the middle of July, only a mere handful of sunny days had hindered our adventures into the mortal world, and I was sure our repetitive appearance in both Waynesville and Asheville had become almost as popular as weather talk.

Today no such journey into town would befall us. Not even for Carlisle, who had finally gained a day off, after sixteen consecutive days at the hospital, nine of which had been within the basement mortuary. Instead, with Christmas approaching, and it apparently being Emmett's most revered holidays -now that Thanksgiving food was out of the question- we had ventured to find some kind of pine tree to decorate for the house.

With it being his first as a vampire and as a part of our family, we had been keen to make it as enjoyable as possible for him. Alas, that called for endless traipsing through the forest in search of the perfect kind of pine.

"Where are we going? Can't we keep to the tracks, or at least the evergreen canopy? The snow is really quite deep." I complained at him, feeling the frozen precipitation leaking over the top of my knee top Wellingtons. "My socks are saturated."

"Not my fault, Bella. You just lack the height needed for snow expeditions." Emmett replied, swinging an axe over his shoulder in an archaic lumberjack sort of way. "You need to invest in a good pair of water waders."

"She'll need chest-waders." Rosalie added with a laugh, walking in step with her plaid clad boyfriend.

"Goodness, it's like I never get sick of hearing height jokes." I replied with my best bout of sarcasm, turning down Edward's offer of aid, and continuing to struggle with my stubborn nature. "And there is a mere five inch difference between you and I, Rosalie."

"Every inch counts." She replied.

"And what of me?" Esme interjected. "Where do I fit in? For there cannot be more than three inches between Isabella and myself."

"Oh, you're fine, Esme." Emmett decided, never one to insult the woman he had already named his vampire mother. "It's just Bella that's short."

"And yet I've kicked your ass on how many occasions?" I retorted, deliberately kicking a little snow in his direction. "More than enough to consider you my subordinate."

"Yeah…but you cheat." He replied childishly, bumping into the trees in the hopes the snow should fall directly upon me. Only however succeeding in covering himself, and Carlisle, who followed on a few paces behind.

"Thank you for that Emmett, if I wasn't feeling festive, I sure am now." Came Carlisle's response, as he dusted the icy cold powder from his hair, and brushed the reminisce from his coat. "Have we trekked quite far enough to find this perfect tree?"

"Why can't we just pick any one the pine trees surrounding us? There must be over a hundred just here." Edward added, allowing me to grip tightly onto his arm, save me sinking into the snow.

"No, no, Edward." Emmett called over his shoulder. "We have to get the best one."

"What does _the best one_ look like?" Esme asked him, doing a great deal to look elegant as she and Carlisle walked together.

"I'll know it when I see it." He replied vaguely, assuring only himself out of the six of us. Even Rosalie looked a little sceptical, and she was usually the first one to support his idea, that or bluntly tell him the notion was foolish and deliver that infamous smack to the head.

"Emmett, is this going to take forever? I really want to listen to the BBC news, the Prime Minister is addressing the nation and I want to hear." I questioned again, giving up with walking and coercing Edward into giving me a pickaback.

"What time is that on, Isabella?" Carlisle wondered from a couple of paces ahead.

"Three o'clock. But I'd like to be there well before, the radio was being stubborn and wouldn't tune into the BBC international services, last time." I replied, looking down from the great vantage point my husband always had.

"You British make me laugh." Emmett declared with an uncalled for shake of the head.

"I shouldn't slight them if I were you, Emmett." Edward laughed. "They may get prudish."

"It's alright; they haven't got any power over here anymore. We're independent remember." Emmett responded, swapping his axe from one shoulder to the next with a hearty grin.

"Isabella, is seems we are being slighted." Carlisle addressed.

"I can hear, but the one in front needs to recall how many times I have kicked his ass." I stated, throwing the muscular lumberjack my best pointed stare. "And the one below needs to remember I'm his wife, and I can hold a grudge for however long it takes." Sharply pinching my husband's cheek.

"But you are strange." Emmett decided to declare. "I mean you have that stiff upper lip thing, and you both have an obsession with the royal family, and the government, and you both have moments of being weirdly overly polite. Sometimes I don't know what you're saying."

"You have listed a bunch of stereotypical traits. I'm not obsessed with the royal family, it's called being patriotic, and I'm merely taking a valued interested in my country." I argued.

"I do like to keep up to date with the government, that is very true." Carlisle agreed with him. "But overly polite? Are we overly polite, Isabella?"

"Goodness, no." I responded. "We are polite when the time calls for it."

"You are a bit." Rosalie added. "I mean, you both still referred to people as ladies and gentlemen. And Bella, you are ridiculously awkward when people talk about their emotions."

"Hey." I called out with a frown. "I believe that some emotions should be…kept to one's self."

"The use of the word _one_." Emmett announced loudly to the group, holding his hand upwards as if his very argument had found validity.

"Emmett, lots of people still used it in such a context." Esme corrected him.

"Yeah, but when you use it with their accent it sounds really funny." He responded.

"Oxford English, it's pretty much the standard." I educated. "And can we please move on from this topic? I've had enough of having my character traits scrutinized for one day. "

There was another good solid twenty minutes before Emmett announced, rather loudly, he had found the perfect one. It looked like every other damn tree within the forest, but alas, we humored him, made sure it would fit inside the house, before allowing him to cut it down. There was some dramatic flexing of muscles, which I was assured were not for my benefit, but Rosalie seemed impressed, so he succeeded in that forte.

Having all successfully hunted and felled the Christmas tree, we traipsed all the way back to the house. The poor tree wouldn't survive Emmett's less than delicate run, as he dragged it along the snow covered floor, and we were forced to walk back at a painfully slow pace. But it was pleasant having everyone out together, an occurrence that did not normally happen due to other factors that always interfered. And while I declared that it was Hallows' Eve that was my favourite of holidays, I deemed this Christmas was going to be a good one. One only need look at the sheer size of the tree, to realise we were going all out this year.

I would dole out credit to Emmett, it did look quite spectacular in the parlour, and it fit brilliantly pride of place next to the bay window. Adorned with a mirage of glass pendants and ornaments from Tiffany's, ribbon and lace from the house in Toledo, an a horde of tinsel in the most shimmery silver colour. But he was still not done, on small placards we were requested to write our names, and those were then hung from the branches. He said it was something his family had done, a tradition they had, and were all eager to uphold for his sake.

Past all the glamour of being immortal, the power, the perfection, in the very end, we were all just beings who had lost something. And if we could do just a little something to make that easier, I liked to think we would grasp onto it tightly. For Emmett I think his family was his greatest loss, he talked about them sometimes, his siblings, his parents. While we could never replace that, there remained hope than we could go some way to becoming an immortal stand in.

But it was nice to see all our names on the tree, and it made Esme happy, so we agreed to incorporate it into our own family traditions.

"Spectacular." Emmett announced, standing back from placing the last of the tinsel at the top.

"It looks lovely, perhaps the best I have ever seen." Esme praised, tying the ribbon on the glass ornaments.

"Better than the ones in the store windows in Knoxville." He nodded to himself, decisively pleased about the outcome.

"I'll go purchase some of those small tree candles when I go to town." Esme told him, stacking up the empty boxes. "Or maybe I should see if I can find any of those electrical holiday light strands."

"They sell them in the hardware store." Rosalie stated, as she aided me in taking apart the wireless. "Although, that was almost two weeks ago, they may all be sold out now."

"I'll take a look anyhow, we may get lucky."

The radio set we had in the parlour room was the largest and subsequently the most powerful in the house, indeed it was several years old now, but they usually had a shelf life of at least five or so years. But upon turning it on; with the hopes of listening to the BBC service, there had been a strange popping sound, followed by the smell of burning Bakelite, and the set had completely cut out.

Rosalie had allowed me to borrow her box of tools, before deciding to lend a hand; we discovered quite quickly the vacuum tube filament had blown out, subsequently cause by some poorly connected wires than had short circuited the components. I sent Edward on a mission to find the box of spare tubes we had hidden in the basement, while Rosalie and I set to work re-souldering the wires.

"Whoever made this in the first place did a shoddy job with the wiring." Rosalie noted, giving the less than stellar work a dissatisfied look, as she checked the loose connectors. "No wonder it blew out."

"Too much voltage on the board." I agreed. "But if you think this is bad, then you should see the radio set I have in Toledo, that one came with the house, and I think they stopped manufacturing them in twenty three. It's absolutely massive, and can only pick up local stations."

"A crystal set?" She questioned.

"Yep, a Ducretet. It has all these dials and the most atrocious labelling, took me ages to figure out how it worked. It also didn't help that the cat slept on top of it, used to overheat all the time."

"Will any of these suffice?" Edward questioned, brandishing several different sized vacuum valves,as he came back from his mission. "This is all we have."

"Which one says between five and ten volts?" Rosalie queried, not even bothering to look up from her souldering. "As long as it's in between those, it doesn't matter which."

"And as long as it can fit within the case." I added. "So you can discount those two." Pointing to the larger of the handful.

Choosing's were so rudely interrupted by the unwelcome shrill of the telephone, and we all uncouthly looked to each other in the hopes someone would volunteer. Even Emmett; who once so enjoyed answering the device, had become bored by the technology, and no longer wished to answer.

"Shall I get it, then?" Carlisle offered, tipping down the top of his newspaper to address us all.

"Do it." Emmett declared. "It's normally for you, and no one else likes answering. I'm sick of making small talk with people."

"If it's the gentleman from the furniture store, will you tell him I shall come collect the items as soon as the roads get better." Esme told him.

"If it's my broker, tell him I can't get to the phone right now." I said. "He can work around my time, I do not come to his beck and call. But if it's Tanya I'll come to the phone."

"Very well." He nodded, seemingly wanting to roll his eyes. "Is there any other messages I must deliver." We all replied in the negative, and Carlisle soon departed from the room, managing to catch the phone before the person on the other end gave up. It turned out it was indeed for him, the hospital calling about one thing or another.

Rosalie and I finished fixing the wireless, connecting the loose wires, replaced the glass tube, before the fixed the back panels into place, and setting the great device upright. It turned on with a satisfying hum, and the tuning dials backlit, all I had to do was twist the wheel and find the station I was after. The BBC soon blared into life.

"That was some team work." Emmett praised.

I could not help but think of another time when we had made a most excellent, if not slightly grim team. And from the look Rosalie gave me, the thought had past her mind too. "Well, we're not just pretty faces." I instead replied. "It's such a bore to simply be handsome looking, one has to have a fine constitution and set of skills to be interesting. Do you have such traits, Em?" Came my tease.

"You know it." He grinned in return. "I've got a fine set of skills."

"I really, really did not need to see that, Emmett." Edward grimaced, shaking his head as if trying to dispel the image.

"You better not be thinking something vulgar." Rosalie interjected, fixing her other half with an icy glare.

"No?" He attempted.

She could only roll her eyes, and watch him dither and trip over his assurances that no such thing had occurred. While Esme covered her smiled with sudden interest in fixing the perfect tree. Luckily Emmett was saved from his endless stammering by the return of Carlisle, bringing with him some news regarding a new hospital build in Sandpoint, Idaho.

Couldn't say I'd ever been to such a place.

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><p><em>AN: And we have finally finished with this part of the plot, now moving on to the Jasper and Alice plot. I can't say for sure when they will arrive, for my counting has once again been out, due to the addition of Amos and the extra chapter.I think this chapter has come about to tie up loose ends, and dictate that Rosalie and Emmett had an established relationship. _

_Hope you enjoyed, and please review, I really do appreciate each and every one of them, no matter how long or short. Thanks. _


	73. Chapter Seventy Two: Tempus

_A/N: Finally we have begun a new plot line and with it quite a substantial time gap, I have to say I'm going to miss writing within the thirties. But looking forward to moving this story along, and adding the final members to the family. Thanks to everyone who is reviewing, I love getting feedback, and reading what you all think of the chapters. And once again thanks to those who have put the story (or myself) on alert or favoured. Also welcome to all those who have joined. _

_MJElliot: Thanks for the continuing support, hope you are still enjoying the story._

_Jessie: Thank you so much for the review, I think the meeting between Jasper and Bella will be a very interesting one. _

_Holidai: This telephone scene is sadly what happens at Uni, no one likes answering the phone. Then we selectively nominate someone to go answer. I think it's because of the unpredictability, and the sheer about of cold callers. I'm glad you liked the chapter, I think it was a final wrap up of that plot line. And I think I am going to miss writing about their adventures in the thirties. But I am so excited about getting onto the Alice/Jasper part, I have to say Alice will be second guessing a claim over a room. While I do like Alice, I can't say she's my favourite. It was definitely the Barbie thing, and I have to say joining a family and kicking a member out of their room…I would be decisively pissed about it. I am looking forward to them being equals. Thanks for the review. _

_silverhawk88: Nice to hear from you. And thanks for the great review. I must say I too like the first, dislike the second and third (due to the triangle.) Although I shall not make a comment on the whole baby thing, it really wasn't my cup of tea. But having a happy ending is always great. Thanks very much for the review, I shall keep up the writing. _

_46 Husbands Later: I'm looking forward to Alice and Jasper joining. I like to think perhaps it's the shared past, that makes both Jasper and Bella have similar traits. Also the same with Alice, it should be common ground. Thanks for the review. _

_leahmarie59: Delighted to know you liked the chapter, and the family banter. I have to admit finding a good place to end was difficult, but good to know you like where it finished. And you can be assured the introduction is not going to come with ease, there is going to be confrontation. I can hardly imagine two vampires with such past as Jasper and Bella, getting on immediately . Even Alice may find her visions can't solve everything. Thanks for the review. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thanks again!_

_fashionista1: How kind you are. And thanks for keeping up this far, I know it's been a long haul kind of story. Jasper and Alice are soon to be introduced. And Bella's fiancé (George) will be making an appearance later on in the story, when the continuing under-plot comes to the forefront. I hope it will be an exciting meet and greet. Thanks for the review. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the right to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Seventy Two: Tempus<span>

February 7th, 1950, Seaside City, Oregon

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"It's so much nicer here." Rosalie declared with an air of contentment. "Nicer town, nicer buildings, an actual beach, no prying small town busybodies, and certainly no bear size wolves."

"The redeeming quality one always looks for when deciding on prospective locations." I replied, stopping on the promenade walkway to stare avidly into the glass fronted stores. "I didn't care for the town, but you have to admit the atrocious weather was alright."

"Yes, it would have been alright…had there actually been something to occupy our time in Hoquiam. It was dull." She responded. Stopping aside me and considering the jewellery that clinked about her wrists.

"Well, the giant wolves sure made things interesting." I muttered, recalling a particular encounter and a large pair of jaws that had unceremoniously clamped around my leg. That particular exchange had been one I had scarcely made it out of, a hunting experience that had made me particularly wary of the Olympic Peninsula, and subsequently the Quillayute tribe's reservation. It had only been through Carlisle negotiation skills, and efficient mastering of the Quileute language, that meant we were able to somewhat co-exist peacefully with the tribe. And avoid being mauled to death by their enormous feral dog doppelgangers.

I had been; and so had Carlisle, under the impression that the only kinds of morphing wolves were the children of the moon. Savage, barbaric, beasts that could only turn on nights with a full moon, with no coherent human like intelligence upon changing. And yet these wolves had higher cognitive processes, and abilities to communicate and work like a pack. More wolf like than the mutant versions that had been prolific in haunting Eastern Europe.

We could not help but wonder if the Volturi knew of such a species. And believed in the negative, Caius's hatred, and prowess for hunting down the original creatures was well known. Therefore, we could not help but believe some kind of retaliation would have been launched against the Quillayute wolves.

On the other hand, we upheld an agreement with the tribe, this so called treaty may have been there to keep both sides safe from each other, but it did in no way constituted a decrease in the tense relationship that still occurred. Of the three tribesmen who supposedly protected their land and people, it was only the elder Ephraim Black who showed any such regard for making a treaty. The younger men, by the surnames of Uley and Ateara, were more reluctant to stand with us at the border line, and the one could barely hold himself together.

Alas, it was forged, and we were never to step foot across their lands, bite with the intent to drink blood, or infect another human being with our venom. Other than the occasional sighting of the wolves prowling the land line, and the single instance in which we both hunted down a nomad, never did we forge a relationship. Eventually, after only three years we moved once more, ending up in Oregon, along the Pacific coast, and in a much more desirable location. The city, with the appropriate name of Seaside, was a prime spot for us to live, work, and generally go about our leisurely ways.

For what better way could one be at leisure, than a stroll along the half mile decked promenade. Gazing at the sea and being distracted by numerous shops. It was certainly far superior than the forever green presented by the northwest of Washington State.

The new house was around ten miles from the main city, and only two miles from the unpopulated beaches. Emmett and I had already subsequently planned to go diving from the cliffs, swimming in the sea, or play cricket on the sands. The logic being, the crash of the waves should help drown out our less than delicate touch when it came to hitting the ball. That way we should never be limited to playing sport only when a storm passed over, for it was such a bore to have to be patient for such a weather occurrence.

"You know, I can find a single film I'd care to see." Rosalie told me. "I hope there will be some good releases, this year."

"Not even Samson and Delilah?" I teased. "They are still showing that, we could go again?"

"Don't even joke about such things." She admonished, pulling us further along the paved parts of the sidewalk. "What a terrible film, I can't believe we sat through it."

"Hardly." I responded. "We left after an hour, and never did get to see the ending. The critics said it was brilliant."

"Well, they were wrong, and I did you a favor." She announced, walking with a decisive pace that made sure anyone within our way should move to the one side. "It would have been a hundred and thirty minutes of wasted time."

"Alright, then we will just have to wait until something good comes out, maybe we could go to that drive-in theatre, the one just off the coastal highway. That way we don't have to sit with the smokers." I tried, subtly ignoring the catcall that resounded from a passing Austin. Far too many human males stuffed into the rather small car, whistling, and throwing out some rather derogatory terms in our direction. The type of chivalrous behaviour that all women aspired to be on the receiving end of, I would however give some credit to their taste.

"What utter pigs." Rosalie said, curling her lip in a degree of disgust. "And a terrible car to boot. Humans are getting increasingly stupid."

"Your tact becomes you." I replied. "Now let's go find the others, they should be done by now. Then we can go find something for our less than stellar counterparts."

She let out a small groan. "Please, did you have to go and remind me? Shopping with, or for Emmett is so tedious. He's either complaining, or getting distracted and going off. Persuading him into purchasing any outfit is such a chore. I swear sometimes he's more child than man."

"Well, he's going to have to man up, he needs to get fitted for a formal suit." I responded, untangling my coiffured curls from their attachment to the buttons on my chiffon coat.

"Do you know he asked why he couldn't simply just wear his bridegroom suit? His wedding suit. He wants to wear the suit he wore when we got married, to some lousy hospital evening." She ranted, stalking onwards with a wider pace, thusly forcing me to step a little faster to keep up.

"You have to admit it is a very fine suit." I attempted.

"Of course it is." She said, slowing back down to my footfalls. "I'm the one who picked it out. But that is part of the problem, he'll wear almost anything I pick for him…or anyone for that matter. Even that godforsaken tweed jacket you bought for his birthday, he refused to believe that it makes him look like a dandy."

"I'll have you know that is hand loomed, fine Harris Tweed. In a custom design, and imported all the way from the Outer Hebrides. It was not cheap." I educated.

"Yes, but there is no need for him to wear it each and every time we leave the house." She said.

"I'm sure he will become bored of it eventually." I applied a degree of truth, for he was constantly on the lookout for something more exciting than the last. "And I think we have a good chance of forcing him into something formal, he can't escape you, Esme, and myself."

About a third of the way down the street, and continuing to follow the course of the promenade that ran alongside, we found the electrical store we were aiming for. The wide shop windows were stocked full of the very latest in television sets, all artfully displayed, and attracting a horde of school children watching an old episode of Let's Play the Game. So engrossed they did not even note our passing, and we ambled on in.

It was the type of place one would not enter unless they had business, for there was an abundance of vinyl-coated flooring, constantly blowing mechanical fans, and overly polished men in corduroy, with slick back quiffs. And the very moment my heels tapped against the shiny plastic titles, there was already one at my side. Questioning if I was in the market for something modern, something incredible.

"No." Rosalie told him bluntly. "We've come to find our husbands, and the rest of our family." Before artfully stalking across the shop floor.

"Excuse me." I told him with a bright smile, following in the wake of her slightly taller stature.

It was not hard to find the rest of our family; they always managed to cut a different kind of stance than any other persons, dressed to the nines, and then Emmett in his tweed jacket. Rosalie and I joined, and were soon enthralled within a modern and technologically advanced kind of problem. The trusty Du Mont set we had purchased only three years ago was now void, but the cost of repairing the parts was uneconomic. So apparently purchasing a bigger and better one was the answer, unfortunately with six members coming to an agreement was never easy. And thusly I stood watching both Edward and Emmett arguing over the matter, not helped when Rosalie joined in.

"Everything fine at the draper's?" Esme inquired, doing well to try and ignore the on-going tattle between her children.

"All sorted, curtains should be ready in about two week's time. He said he'd call us when they're ready." I reported back, getting mildly distracted by the line of brand new sets.

"Do you have anything to add to this debate?" Carlisle wondered, doing well to act like he was not part of their little bickering group.

"I should not even try to attempt to add my input." I replied, twisting the dials on a new Zenith. "But if they don't come to any sort of agreement soon, I shall go ahead and purchase the one I want. And I've had my eye on the British Royal Star."

"How much?"

"Sixty three pounds, eighteen shillings, and a tuppence. Plus, of course importation tax." I recalled. "Which I think is a very good price, and it comes in a choice of colours."

"You are having a great deal of luck with importing items." Carlisle declared.

"True, although it must come down to the introduction of these new cargo aircraft and with the war over they are much more frequent in their crossings. It's strange to think a craft of such size could possibly fly." I agreed, wondering if it were possible to implement myself into the on-going discussions. But Rosalie seemed to have made the finally decision, and she quite wisely picked the most popular brand. That meant getting spare parts would be a good deal easier, and much cheaper to repair.

It had only really been within the last five years that the consumer and economic market had become so exponentially strong. Once the war ended, and we were no longer using up so many resources for the production of military supplies, there came a great demand for anything and everything consumer. Over the course of the six year conflict there had been a great deal of advances in many industries, aviation and electronics being two of the greatest. And I could honestly say the increase in national gross had been of substantial success for myself.

But I supposed not all advancements could be seen as having such a detrimental effect on the human race, than the breakthrough behind the Manhattan Project. And through the research and development by an eclectic group of international scientists, the atom bomb was devised.

Since the German surrender in forty five, post-war relations with the Soviet Union had been on the downward decline. Through such altercations as the Berlin Blockade, we found our self yet again at war, albeit a cold-war. The Iron Curtain had fallen, cutting off the Western allies from the communists and their Warsaw Treaty. Both sides were in possession of atomic power, and so through the ranking by the US air force we were at DEFCON four.

Although each person sort out to have an average and terribly normal life, the grip of anti-communist hysteria, and the so called 'red scare' was present always. Propaganda was rife, posters, articles, radio shows, films, littered each type of media.

I could not recall having ever lived through such a strange time, and overall bright and prosperous atmosphere, yet people were suspicious, afraid of communism spreading. Humans remained to be the most curious beings, now with the ability to completely annihilate each other.

One could only wonder what the Volturi were doing about such things.

"We're done." Rosalie announced, making it clear her choice had been the correct and the final.

"Excellent." I nodded in automatic response. Watching Emmett as he made a great deal of picking up the box containing the new set, and insinuating a struggle with the weight. "Oh goodness, now I'm going to pretend I'm not with him."

"You weren't here when he bought the previous set into the store." Edward commented, hanging back with me and leaving a socially acceptable gap between ourselves and Emmett. "There was a lot of huffing."

"I seriously hope you are joking." Rosalie replied, with a well-placed look of disbelief.

"Unfortunately not." Edward responded.

Luckily for the reputation all of us, Emmett was able to place the _heavy _box in the Chevrolet, and thusly we were not forced to endure his human acting all the way to the department store. With business at the bank, Esme and Carlisle left us to our own devices, but unfortunately this meant having to take male's shopping.

Lord and Taylor loomed on the corner of Broadway and North Holladay Drive, and subsequently Emmett began to lag behind. But Rosalie was in no mood to be trifled with, she grabbed him by the arm and practically dragged him the whole length of the street.

"There is a lesson in there…somewhere." I mused quietly, as to not induce the wrath of the blonde who was so clearly on a mission. Telling Emmett not to be such a child, and that he needed new clothes. "Or we have lost all dignity."

"Could we not just leave them behind?" Edward replied. "Keep our dignity intact."

"That would be quite cruel of us, to leave them both behind. I should think Rosalie would be a great deal displeased." By this point we had managed to hang back a fair distance, and a great horde of humans had come between us and them.

"Would a trip to the book store help ease your conscience?" He bartered, looking above the general mortal height to gage the distance.

"You know me far too well." I said, artfully threading my arm through the crook of his elbow. "Let's go before she realises, and begins pulling us down the street." The convenience of the side street was not unseen, and we all but absconded with a quickened pace. Ducking our heads and unable to stop the devious grins, as we went in search of something more to our tastes.

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><p><em>AN: I'm extremely pleased to have this first part out, feels like a bit of weight being lifted. And we are now well into the fifties. _

_Seeing as I'm now becoming fully enthralled within the realms of the forum, if anyone is looking for a really friendly Twilight Forum, minus roleplaying, and with some brilliant long haul (to which I am competing!) and one-shot competitions. I cannot help but recommend: Twilight Fanfiction Challenges and Competitions_

_Once again thanks for reading, hope you can review. _


	74. Chapter Seventy Three: Lavanda

_A/N: We are surely making a good start on the seventies and of course the introduction of the couple everyone is on such tenterhooks to see arrive. I am working as swiftly as possible to get these chapters out. Thanks to those who have taken the time to review, I absolutely love reading them. It is always nice to know what people think of the chapter, what they liked, and if I could have done anything better. Thanks also to those alerting, favouring and such. _

_viola1701e: This is something I have always thought about, what did the Volturi do during the wars? During the Second, battle lines almost crossed straight through the town of Volterra. I think this indeed would make a most brilliant story. I could not resist putting Emmett in a tweet jacket, and of course I like to imagine it has elbow patches (I am so writing this in somewhere.) Thanks for the review; you have succeeded in making me want to write a one-shot about the Volturi having some kind of meeting about the war. _

_CullenBoy123: Indeed they are very close now to making an appearance. Thanks for reviewing. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: How kind you are! This is the kind of relationship I really wanted for them to develop in the books, so desperate for them to find something in common and forge a relationship. And while I do like the fact Rosalie came to Bella's aid with the whole pregnancy fiasco, it was hardly a naturally forming relationship. But thanks so much for the review, and for liking my take on their friendship. _

_MJEilliot: I love writing them as a normal family; they must fill their time with human tasks. Generally having human problems, getting excited about new technology and such. Bella and Emmett make a fantastic duo; their banter is such fun to write. Thanks for the review. _

_Holidai: Getting this chapter right was quite a hard one, I mean, I usually go through the years at quite a slow pace, so the introduction of new things is easy to integrate in. But with a gap of fifteen years…so much has happened, a war, a whole new social and economic climate. So I pretty much attempted to throw them right into the middle of it. And I'm glad you think Edward is more fixed within the family, all those issues that set him apart from the others are no longer standing in this version. From the book I think it was the mate issue…but seeing as he already has Bella, I like to see him happier. You and I have such a similar view on Alice, while I like her generally, and I know she was Bella's best friend. Her…assuming ways always made me a little coarse of her personality, but maybe that was because of Bella being so fragile. Let's just say this friendship will be on a much more equal footing. Thanks for the fantastic review!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the right to The Twilight Saga. _

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><p><span>Chapter Seventy Three: Lavanda<span>

July 15th 1950

...

With the receiver tucked under the crook of my neck, one foot up on the edge of the vanity, and hands more than occupied painting a cherry red onto my toes; I attempted to listen to the conversation at hand. The rotary Bakelite telephone had been stretched from its mooring at the wall, and the coiled cable had decided to entangle with my hair.

"She smelt rancid." Tanya relayed down the line, and vexed tone of clear irate feelings that she could not quell. "Like cheap human cologne, sweat, and sex."

"Lovely." I replied, pressing my chin further into the receiver save it falling from my shoulder's perch. "You are painting the most delightful of pictures."

"And I'm not even jesting with you; it's a complete and utter farce. I cannot believe she is behaving in such a way." Came the rapidly paced response. "Whoring herself about, like a common prostitute."

"Tanya." I berated. "That's kind of brutal. She is your sister."

"Well it doesn't seem like it." Tanya replied with a bitter twist, and I could imagine her scowl firmly in place. "It's been fifteen years, that's enough time to heal, isn't it?"

"I really cannot comment, I don't know how much she cared about him." I gave a hopefully diplomatic response to such a question, not wanting to add fuel to a clearly burning fire. "Look, I'll not beat about the proverbial bush with you, but perhaps she's using these human males as a stand in. Maybe a degree of physical contact she missed, a sexual relationship?"

The was a short pause on the other end, in which I presumed she was thinking it over. "So how do I make it better?"

"You are asking the wrong person, you know I'm shit at giving out advice." I replied honestly. Placing the little bottle of polish back in its designated draw, and putting both my feet up on the vanity. Finally holding the receiver in the correct manner, spare hand curling the coiled telephone cable. "But if you need anything…I'm still here. You can always come down for a couple days, or a week, or something."

"I suppose I should try and implement some kind of intervention first, then, if I fuck that up I'll come stay for…just come stay forever." She decided. "I bet Edward's delighted to hear such news."

I craned my neck to view said mentioned, only to find him sitting on the edge of the bed and shaking his head. "He's looking forward to having you come stay." I reported back.

She snorted. "What a lie."

"Well, I like having you here, that should be enough." I responded decisively. "And were only eighty miles from Portland, which means-"

"Oh, I like where this is going already." She said.

There was a scuffle on the other end, and the sound of a petty squabble. Before I was speaking to another member of the Denali clan. "I sincerely hope she's not placing all her complains on you?" Kate announced, doing well to speak over Tanya's fussing in the background.

"You know I don't mind, I'll give just as much back." I responded, hobbling around the room as my polish dried, and carrying the phone base in one hand. "So how is married life treating you?"

"Honestly… other than having a legal document stating we're married, and a few photographs, not much has changed. But I suppose it's nice." She relayed.

"Those photos were lovely; Esme's framed one in the hallway."

"She must be making quite the collection, marriage is turning out to be contagious within our covens. "

"Guess it can't be all bad then." I joked, ignoring Edward's roll of the eyes and unintelligible hand gestures. I passed him the phone base to hold, and proceeded to pace as far as the cable would allow.

"Guess not." She managed to agree, telling Tanya to wait just a moment. "So I'll not displace my manners, how is everyone? That nice big house treating you well?"

"We're all alive, and generally in good health. The house is far too big for us all, but I guess that means more room for guests. And on the plus side we have the attic bedroom, which is furthest away from Rosalie and Emmett." I conveyed the best answer possible.

"Still keeping up with their rambunctious sex-capades?" She inquired with a degree of amusement.

"Let's just say subtlety has never exactly been their strong suit." I replied, twisting my slowly drying hair around my finger.

"That's an understatement." Edward muttered.

"Now there was another reason for me interrupting the call, and it's going to sound a great deal bazaar." Kate began. "But I am on strict instructions from Carmen to mention it now, save you make plans."

"Well now I'm interested." I told her. "Is someone else entering matrimony?"

"Goodness no, I think we've had quite enough of weddings this end." Kate assured. "But Carmen has decided we are going all out for Christmas this year, which means your family has been summoned north for the festive period."

"I shall relay this on to my superiors, but unless something…outrageous occurs within the next eight months, you can pretty much count us in." I responded.

"Fantastic." She declared. "Nice talking to you, Bella. I'll pass you back before Tanya starts getting hysterical."

"Speak to you soon." I attempted to impart my farewell, but the scuffle on the other end was evident it would most probably go unheard. There lingered a moment where I considered putting down the receiver and pretending I thought the conversation finished, but Tanya was too quick.

"I swear there is no privacy in this house." She complained, with a tone that assured me she was not in the best, or chipper of moods.

"When was the last time you hunted?" I questioned, having to take back the phone base as Edward grew tired of being my lackey. "You sound hungry."

"Last week, sometime?" She replied. "I've been too busy following Irina into town, making sure she doesn't fuck up and bite her latest conquest. No one will confront her, they're all too afraid. Saying I'm being too insensitive. Honestly, Bella, she needs someone to be blunt."

"I don't dispute that sometimes a little tough love is needed, just…make sure you are doing this for the right reasons. You and I have a tendency to be overly blunt when things don't go the way we want, but you're going to have to be understanding of her plight instead." I tried once again to muster the very best of my experiences.

"Yes." She sighed, making the receiver crackle in response. "Maybe I should talk to the others beforehand…I can be as blunt with them as I like. But some kind of serious conversation has been an awful long time coming. We've tiptoed long enough. "

"Then I should wish you a good deal of luck." I replied, tucking the phone beneath my chin to run a brush through the length of my hair. "Write me, or phone."

"I shall grace you with one or the other. Perhaps letter, try not to give Eleazar a shock when the phone bill arrives."

"Then you should do well to attempt to hide this months."

In a fashion that only the two of us had adopted, we simultaneously place the receiver down on each other without so much as a farewell. Tanya had taken issue with the appropriate amount of goodbyes at the end of phone calls, and thusly decided to never use such an omen.

"You quite finished?" Edward questioned rhetorically.

"Quite." I decided, lightly touching my toes to gage whether the generic red polish had dried.

"Good." He announced, and promptly pulled the telephone cable from its plug point. "No more phones in the bedroom." Coiling the absurdly long wire around his arm, and placing the whole thing dejectedly at the top of the spiral staircase.

I could not find an argument with enough merit to claim otherwise, and had to rather dejectedly look at the poor jilted item. "Is this because I may have answered the phone while we were initiating…something? Because I did apologise, and I didn't think it would be Tanya." I stood up on the mattress lording myself over the large room, and having a little vantage over Edward.

"You could have asked her to call back?"

He stood a little way from me, still within arm's distance and therefore not out of reach of my hands, as they came to decisively rest on his shoulders. "You know that would have made no difference, she's not that way inclined. And I couldn't just ignore it; it's a dual bell telephone, bloody loud."

"Which is why we shan't be having one in our room." He replied, stepping a pace forwards so we were almost face to face.

"Not even if it's unplugged? I have to say it goes brilliantly with the theme of the wall prints." Looking down upon him with an all too rare difference.

"No distractions." He responded, brushing his lips against mine. "Can't you just buy a lamp instead?"

I was going to complain that one could not simply 'just buy a lamp,' but found myself enthralled within a kiss that took all such complains away. Hands grasping the waist of my dress, steadying me from toppling either way. While I draped my arms around his broad shoulders, and forced away the last of the gap that so inhibited a satisfactory degree of contact. Movement became frantically delirious, hair in a state of utter disarray, and flowing peach coloured chiffon riding high.

"Are Rosalie and Emmett still in the house?" I managed to question aloud.

"Yes." Came the hasty reply.

"I think it's time for a little...retaliation."

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><p>With the television blaring an advert for some kind of pain relief pill, Rosalie and I lay haphazardly on the Davenport, watching with a bland sort of amusement. She lay one way and I the other, with half my torso precariously on the edge, and arm limply on the floor. With all the males within the house away to hunt, and it being a Saturday, we waited patiently for the most superior television show.<p>

"These adverts are so annoying." Came her generic complaint. "Why are there so many on Band-Aid's."

"Not as annoying as the Pepsodent one, that toothpaste-"

"I hate that jingle." She groaned again. "How can humans be so happy about toothpaste." Pulling her hair from its previous up do, and beginning a rhythmic system of braiding and un-braiding.

We watched as the adverts for unneeded human items finally gave way to the beginning credits, and both called out for Esme to hurry. She made it in ample time, sitting between us two as we moved to make room, and stop our lazy lounging.

"I'm so glad the boys aren't here." Esme announced, getting a round of agreements from Rosalie and I.

The three of us sat altogether to watch as the iconic beginning of the Frank Sinatra Show started, a favourite that we had been religiously watching since its first episode. Most probably since it did contain Sinatra, one could not help but appreciate a good deal of talent, and a handsome face. Not to mention the horde of guests, who didn't love the liked of Tennessee Ernie Ford and Basil Rathbone. Something our counterparts were lax in becoming fond of, but that was their loss. And we would continue to watch until the end.

"I've come to the decision that I would go on a date with Frank Sinatra." Rosalie declared rather openly, as he came onto the set with the usual degree of flourish and hype. "I mean should I ever meet him. And such an opportunity arise."

"I'd date him." I agreed. "And Tyrone Power, even Charlie Chaplin...back in the day."

"He was so very handsome, I should have accepted a date from him." Esme stated with a defiant nod.

"Does Carlisle know you harbour such a crush?" I laughed, lightly bumping my shoulder into hers in retaliation.

"I believe that there are some things that husbands do not need to know." Came her very sly response. "They are best kept ignorant, keeping their feelings quite intact."

"Here, here." Rosalie gave a rowdy cheer of agreement.

"Well then, I feel I should indulge you to a date-of-sorts that I partook in once." I indulged. "It was absolutely terrible, but it got me into the establishment I was aiming for. And then thusly away from the man I had arrived with."

"That makes you sound like a hussy." Rosalie educated, fixing me with an imprudent smirk from behind Esme.

"I was acting like a floozy, can't dispute such a fact. But this speakeasy was invite only, half way down Lorain Avenue, and the most notorious in Cleveland. I wanted to have a look." I replied.

"And this man you used as a free invite?" Esme queried.

"I thought him some small city crook, had a few muscular men at his arm, told me to call him Izzy. He was kind of pretty looking, but at the time I was more interested in other pursuits." I divulged. "It wasn't until the papers started printing the suspects behind the Saint Valentine's Day Massacre, that I realised that man Izzy was actually Isadore Bernstein."

"You mean…as in The Purple Gang guy?" Rosalie questioned with a quizzical brow.

"The very same one." I confirmed.

"You seem to have a great deal of misfortune when it comes to such men." Esme interjected, turning away from the delights of Louis Armstrong, to tell me as such.

"Unfortunately such run ins tend to be a result of my own doing, except for the men at the gas station that one time...that was sheer bad luck."

"Emmett rode with you for ages after that, in the hopes you'd attract some kind of petty criminal." Rosalie stated, looking once again a great deal displeased with the antics of the one she had chosen to marry.

The three of us continued to watch the on-going show right up until the very end sequence, and once again for another week the program finished. Thusly we were forced back into a reality that wasn't all quite singing and dancing, and to the utility room I departed to finish the laundry previously started. The brand new washer machine was nothing short of a convenient delight, and had the most brilliant ding when the wash cycle was done.

Wearing an outdated floral wash apron, I hauled great bellows of sheets from the drum, dumping them periodically into the basket. Being a warm and windy day, there was little point in wasting electricity and using the dryer, so out to the garden I trekked. Basket balanced on one hip, and two dozen wooden dolly pegs in hand. Onto the twine line I threw over the great sheets, pegging them in place and attempting not to get entangled within the sea of billowing fabric.

We had several stretches of rope, each one traveling in non-parallel lines from the randomly situated trees in the gardens. The more items you hung, the more obscured the view became. Until the half acre of manicured lawn resembled nothing but plumes of ever moving, ever floating waves. One could almost lose themselves within the tall maze of cloth.

There had been a cross wind blowing for most of the day, and so I could smell nothing but the clean scent of the washing powder on the sheets. And hear almost nothing but their incessant flapping.

So it came to be, that I did fail to notice the arrival of something other than the birds on the edge of the garden, until it was far too late to warn the others. In alarm I could only watch as two shadows elongated themselves behind the washing.

We had visitors. Again it seemed.

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><p><em>AN: Just a couple notes on the chapter: The man referred to as Isadore Bernstein, is one of four brothers that led a mob of bootleggers (known as The Purple Gang.) Who were prominent in the Detroit and Lake Erie area, from around 1910 - 1932. Their criminal activities included not only the trafficking of legal substances, but murder, extortion, robbery, and kidnapping. _

_They are also said to have been involved in the massacre on February fourteenth, but no charges were brought against them. Their name is said to have originated from two shopkeepers: _

"_These boys are not like other children of their age, they're tainted, off color."_

_"Yes," replied the other shopkeeper. "They're rotten, purple like the color of bad meat, they're a Purple Gang." _

_The second note to make is on 'The Frank Sinatra Show' (or Bulova Watch Time.) This earlier show ran on CBS from 1950 – 1952, and aired on October 7__th__ (although I have indeed changed the date to fit into the plot.) And episodes are still available to watch on YouTube. _

_Thanks all for reading hope you all enjoyed, please do review._


	75. Chapter Seventy Four: Novae Familiae

_A/N: I was so excited to get this chapter started, but what a task it was to do so. I have lost count of the sheer number of times I have edited and re-edited the outline, trying to find the one I was most happy with. Thanks everyone who is still reading, and I hope you like the chapter. I know so many have been so keen for this one. Also as usual thanks to reviewers, alerts and favours._

_Holidai: I absolutely loved those old phones with their curled cables, and we do still have one, but no one likes using it anymore because they can't move around freely. There was always such a temptation to coil it around your finger when on the phone, walk around with the whole telephone base. I was so determined not to make Tanya the proverbial bad guy, I really like her character, so I'm glad you like my version. I shan't confirm if it's Alice and Jasper….but I think that it's kind of obvious. Thanks for the review!_

_46 Husbands Later: Indeed the wait is over, it's here. Hope you enjoy and thanks for the review. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thank you, hope you like this chapter too!_

_viola1701e: Love the idea about the Volturi, maybe when I have a little more time I can mash out a one-shot. I was writing the part about Rosalie and Emmett's sex-capades, when it occurred to me Edward and Bella must surely be the same…thusly a little revenge seemed fun. Like you said, I'm sure a competition has begun, doubtful many are complaining though. Thanks for the review!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Seventy Four: Novae Familiae<span>

...

A curious moment of waiting ensued when their shadows darkened, growing every bit taller before me, as they neared and finally stopped. I gaged they could be no more than fifteen paces away, loitering around the bottom of the garden path and seemingly unmoving to make any progress.

I placed my hand of wooden pegs into the apron pocket, before moving adeptly and easy through the washing. As cautiously as possible I moved at a human pace, trying to assume a leisurely and unthreatening approach. Making my footsteps a little louder to openly present myself, should they remain ignorant to me.

The journey was slow and controlled, a momentous walk to the stones that led from the drive up to the house. Crossing over the beautifully manicured flowerbed, mindful of the meticulously planted shrubbery. My pumps clicked against the flagstone, as I finally came to view the two people who had presented themselves at the house.

One male, one female.

Visually they could not have appeared more different. A striking height contrast and build, between the small petite female, and her taller, broader partner. She was dark in feature, with raven coloured hair that portrayed nothing within the realms of current fashion. There was no demure curls, or lavish waves to be seen, but instead a choppy and irregular cut, with flicks and spikes about her head. Yet for all its assumed eccentricities, it suited the woman perfectly, and seemed to compliment the exuberance she radiated. Her features were lithe, and had a an decisive sharpness to them, and all in all once again I came across a relatively perfect vampire.

But the male was a completely different scenario, and the moment my eyes came to rest upon his person, I could not help but feel a great deal suspicious. He looked ill fitted in his jacket, like the item was restricting him, but still he stood ridged still at full height, hands straight at his sides. This male was poised.

Unlike the woman he was fair in feature, with shaggy honey coloured hair, half of which was pushed back away from his face. But it was not his hair style which vexed me so; it was his countenance as a whole that put me on edge. Visible on the limited skin he had chosen to display, I could distinguish the silver crevasses of tell-tale scars. Half circles of teeth marred his neck, while long craggy lines were identifiable on his hands.

This man had seen the sight of a battle or two. And even the hues of his molten gold eyes could do nothing to distinguish the apprehensive feelings I had.

"Good afternoon." I began, placing my open hands directly at my sides in mirror of the man. Hoping the others would hear my conversation and come to aid. "Can I help you?"

The female let out something akin to a squeak, and clapped her hand together once in sheer delight. "I simply cannot believe we are here." She chimed, looking directly at me with an unprovoked smile. "And you are here too."

"I should imagine so." I replied slowly. "This is indeed my dwelling, my coven's house." The male behind her watched on with due care and attention.

"I know, Goodness, I know." She declared becoming so increasingly elated, yet refrained from answering the lingering questions that hung around us. As if patiently waiting for something.

"Perhaps… you could answer my question?" I addressed them both with my query." Are you passing through the area? Or do you have business with us?"

It was during the silent response that an echo of movement was audible, and with absolute rapture on my count, footsteps were hasty in making their approach from the house. Moments later both Rosalie and Esme carefully joined me. And if possible, the little female looked even more joyous; but for the life of me I could not understand why. For the odd were now within our favour. Even the male seemed a little affronted by the change in numbers.

"Hello." Esme began, giving them both an amiable smile. The string of pearls about her neck, the flouncy skirt and chiffon overlay, made her the complete vision of perfect conduct. And while most would have classed her as merely lovely, Esme was crafty enough to use her natural trait to gather her information. I gladly stepped back, allowing her to take up post as a social schemer.

"Hello, hello." The female copied, looking over each one of us as if she was trying to fix and memorise our very image. I could not help but shift uncomfortably under her pointed gaze.

"An introduction?" Esme turned to me in question.

"I would love to indulge your curiosity, but so far no names have been exchanged." I educated, never looking away from the pair.

"I'm Alice." She declared boldly. "Just Alice is fine." Before looking expectantly at the uncomfortable male who seemed as vigilant as I.

"Jasper." He stated quite plainly, with a deep southern twang to his word.

"It's so nice to meet you both" Esme nodded, unperturbed it seemed to their bazaar behaviour. "It's only courteous we give you ours." She gestured to Rosalie and I in turn, stating our names before herself, but Alice was quicker with her response.

"And you're Esme." She said. "Yes, I'm quite...familiar with you all."

"I didn't know we have become so notorious." Rosalie stated curtly. Narrowing her eyes at those who stood further down the path. "All good things I should hope?"

"Excellent things, the nicest of things." Alice seemed to wish to assure. "We have been on such tender hooks to meet you all, it has been a very long time coming. And now we are finally here."

"Forgive me." I announced, doing my best to hide my impatience with this on-going round of questioning. "While am I'm delighted to know such lovely things have been exchanged, I'm inclined to ask what business you have in our territory? You understand of course?"

"Naturally." Jasper answered before she, placing his hand lightly upon Alice's shoulder as if a physical restraint. "Forgive us, it is business, and we wish to speak to your coven leader."

"He is absent at the moment, but should return shortly." I replied, feeling a good deal calmer now I had a direct answer instead of the foolish introduction dance we were partaking in. But if there was one matter I was almost directly certain upon, it was that the male before me was a remnant of a past I'd long since wanted to forget. If not the scars upon his person, or the accent of a southern man, it was the manner and conduct of his person. The ridged hold of his statue, a battle hardened being, and apparently all the knowledge of the rules. How disgusting that we could identify those like us with such ease.

It was hard to look as such a being who encompassed something one wished to forget.

"Would you care to wait inside?" Esme gestured towards the house. "I can't imagine they should be much longer."

Alice affirmed, and conceded happily to the invite, walking decisively up the garden path with Jasper following a little more tentatively. She walked far too close to me, with a step that seemed more like a skip, and compliment after good word on the interior of the house. The pair of them made me horribly uncomfortable, I wasn't sure how to address such keen enthusiastic from her, while keeping my suspicions bound towards him.

Esme and Rosalie took a seat on the sofa we had previously vacated, the fainting couch became Alice's seat of choice, and her assumed mate stood behind.

Already mistrusting of the strangers within the house, I too decided standing was the ideal stance, and took the side of the sofa. Putting a physical divide between the two groups. And so we were forced to wait with these incomprehensible vampire duo.

"We do not often see others like us." Esme told them both. "Other than our extended family up north, we know of no other. My husband will be delighted to meet you both."

"He is Carlisle?" Alice questioned, although it sounded like she was already acquainted with such information.

"Yes." She confirmed.

"I'm interested to know who has told you such...kind things about us." I interjected, managing to capture the attention of both our resident guests. "We will be keen to thank them upon our next meet."

Alice did not answer immediately, instead she pondered over the matter for what seemed an age. And then in a manner I would classify as disturbing, her topaz eyes seemed to take on a glazed quality, and she lost all animation. The three of us, not in the know, could only exchange clueless looks, and shift restlessly. Her mate placed a hand upon her shoulder, but remained completely composed, as if this was indeed a common occurrence. Seeing as no vampire could possibly lose consciousness, I came to the assumption she must have had an additional trait.

A small eternity later her eyes began to clear and focus, while life returned to her body. "All shall be explained." She affirmed, bouncing in her seat with barely concealed excitement. "They should be home in mere minutes?"

"What do you mean?" Rosalie snipped, reclining in the seat as if this whole show was a terrible bore. "How could you possibly know such a thing?

"An assumed prediction, or maybe...perhaps a gift?" I wondered, casting my attention now more forcefully towards the female vampire. "A seeress, prophesier, an oracle? Is that how you came to know us?"

"I shouldn't like to give myself such a name." She admitted. "My visions have always been with me from the moment I awoke, but I do not see them as any divine intervention. More a helping hand."

"That's remarkable." Esme stated. "You can really see visions the future?"

"Yes, and no." Came the reply. "While it is true I do get visions of things yet to happen, they seem to be based only events that directly affect myself. And only come clear when someone has reached a decisive resolution. I am in no way any great seer."

But just as Alice had predicted we heard the approach of footsteps on the property edge, and soon into the house our counterparts descended. Looking a deal more severe than when they left. But despite the initial apprehension things remain civil, names were exchanged for our benefit, and a repeat of what had already been divulged took place. And although I had Edward directly at my side, holding onto me in such a manner, he remained visibly engaged in delving in their thoughts.

"Now business." Carlisle announced, displaying his open palms in an exempt sort of way. "What is it you wished to discuss?"

Alice beamed a smile larger than I had previously thought possible. "An invite." She chirped.

"Alice." Jasper warned gently, perhaps thinking her tact was not up to social convention. Indeed it wasn't.

"An invite?" He repeated, looking completely perplexed by the notion she was suggesting. "I'm afraid I'm completely void of the loop. Do explain."

"To stay." Edward interjected in aid. "An invite to stay with us, become part of the coven."

I was sure my brows rose a great deal, and I could feel a great swell of vexation rise up in me at the very ill presumptuousness of the request. I bristled at the notion. But something entirely different came flooding over me, an unwelcome bout of poorly situated, and out of place, calm feelings. Unnatural and fighting against my desire to be vexed, it was a horrible clash of emotions that made me feel out of control. Had it not been for Edward's hand on my waist, I was quite ready to lash out.

"Is that you?" I demanded over the conversation, insinuating Jasper with my gaze. "Are you... trying to calm me?"

"That is creepy." Emmett announced, rolling his shoulders to dispel the bout of unwelcome emotion.

"He's an empath." Edward stated bluntly, having decided silence on the manner was no long beneficial. "You can both feel and manipulate other people's emotions."

"Indeed." Jasper responded tersely. "Forgive me; I am sometimes heavy handed with the doses. Especially when there are so many within a confined space."

"You're clearly in the wrong place." Rosalie muttered.

"Well what a fascinating pair you both are." Carlisle commented, doing his very best to defuse the tension now lingering within the _confined space_. "Now, about this invite... I believe myself fair in offering you both the option to stay-" Rosalie huffed in indignation. "However, I do have other members to consider, and aim to make sure they are as content and happy as possible. Therefore should problems develop, for the sake of the others, I will ask you to vacate the property, and leave the area."

"Of course, of course." Alice nodded eagerly. "We understand completely, don't we Jasper?"

"Yes." He agreed.

"Now about a room." She mused. "I'd very much like something with a view, the attic looks like-"

"Occupied." I announced at her crossing my arms across my bust. "Touch my things and…well I guess you'll _see_ that outcome."

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><p>The moment Carlisle and Esme departed with our new <em>temporary<em> members; showing them around the house and towards the possible room options, I was away to the study.

Closing the reclaimed church door behind me, and locking the brass latch. Through the arch of books, and cases that lines the walls, I ignored my usual seating and did not select a discourse to read. Instead I made a beeline for the writing desk, scrambling to open the desk drawers and hastily grabbing paper, an envelope, and anything else I should need to write my letter.

With a slam of hurried urgency my personal sheets hit the leather slope, and into the seat I fell. There was only one person I should ever write to in the event of such a calamity, and that was Tanya.

_I'm not sure if I should laugh or become hysterical, but you shall never guess what is going on down here. You should do well to read this aloud, but I'm going to apologise in advance for any possible cursing that may follow. For we Cullen's have been once again gifted; and I used this term with a degree of slight bitterness, with a new bout of visitors. _

_Now please, I have nothing against visitors, but these are undoubtedly the most perplexing people I have ever met. I'm sure Carlisle will write to tell you all about them, and be very diplomatic about the whole thing, but I don't want to sugar coat it. _

_There are two of them, and I am presuming they are a mated pair. _

_The female is possibly the most exuberant vampire I have ever come across, almost annoyingly so. With a gift of induced visions of future events. She says that she has had visions of our family, and that the two of them are to become members. Alice; for that is her name, seemed alright, I'll admit her presumptuousness has rather grated upon me. But I think it is just her personality, I shan't judge people for being happy and excitable, it's better than having unmannered savages._

_Now her mate; once again presumed, Jasper is his name. I can't say I am quite as 'delighted' to have him in the house. He is a man of little words, and empathy is his game. I haven't much to say about Jasper at the moment, but I'm sure I'll indulge you at a later date. _

_I've started out writing this letter in a foul mood, but a little perspective has managed to settle me a little. Or maybe that is Jasper's doing? Perhaps I should do well to be a little more forgiving and understanding? You should listen to Carlisle's letter, for I fear I am being a nasty introvert. He will undoubtedly give a far better, and more in depth account, that is __void of my cruel remarks. Feel free to disregard, I am merely having a rant at your expense. _

_Your delighted friend on the west coast. _

I signed my name with a flourish, folding it with sharp creases, and stuffing the letter into the envelope. A walk to the postal office was a well needed respite, for I was indeed in two minds about the whole situation, and walking usually helped.

Unfortunately someone forgot to tell Alice it was a strictly invite only walk, and I found myself journeying to the office with her at my side. Leaving her mate to toil it alone at the mercy of the rest of the house, but she seemed unbothered by the prospect, so I presumed some kind vision had presented itself.

We walked down the driveway in relative silence, and she did well to leave a good space between us. Sometimes strolling a little away ahead, before dropping back to my side once we hit the road that led towards the suburbs. Even her ambling was peppy.

"I hope you don't mind me coming with you." She began, practically a mile from the house. "But I could use the walk."

"Not at all." I decided to reply on the polite. "Walking is for all, I cannot ban you from doing as such."

Alice nodded her head slowly, her choppy hair bobbing to-and-fro as she contemplated. "I like your dress." Was her reply. "It's very pretty, the green suits you."

"Thank you?" I tried, a little confused by the change in topic.

"I most probably resemble some kind of guttersnipe next to you." She announced, pulling distastefully at the plain yellow wrap dress. "I've always wanted to wear the kinds of things you see in all the big city shops, in the magazines, but Jasper and I have been living as nomads and it's not practical…that's most probably a silly thing to want."

"No, I can relate." I agreed. There was a time where I had been through the same things, even had those very desires. I wondered if she had seen this whole conversation, seen a way to relate to me. "Look, can I be blunt with you, Alice?"

"Always." She replied.

"You make me very…conscious." I stated rather openly to her. "I'm sorry if that seems an appalling thing to say, but I wish to know just how much you have…seen of me? It is not every day two vampires turn up and claim to be long lost members."

"It's okay." She nodded. "Sometimes my visions assure me of things to come, but they rarely show me how to go about getting that future. And sometimes the brazen ways in which I go about announcing myself do then… have a tendency to alienate me. But I think the truth is always a good place to start, and I'll admit I wanted to single you out almost straight away."

"Oh?" I shifted.

"The family around you take your opinions in high regard, you have been here since almost the beginning-"

"So you know of my beginnings, then?"

"Not very much, I was still human when you were changed, but what I do know is through the brief visions I have of you telling me. But seeing as that decision has not been made, I do not know everything. It is the same with most members. The clearest sight I have ever received was when I awakened, it was of Jasper and I, with the family. Once I found him, it was my mission to find you all."

"So…how do they work? I know you said the visions are based on decisions, but for instance…when I decided to come out on this walk did you see this conversation?" I questioned, having such a desire to unravel the mystery of this vampire.

"Nope, I'm flying blind on this one." She smiled. "My visions are completely random, they usually only occur when there is danger of some kind, or something very important that will have an impact on myself, or those close to me."

"I guess I should watch myself should a scuffle come my way, you must be good in a fight."

She laughed a pitched sound. "That is almost the very same thing Jasper said to me when we first met."

"What a coincidence." I agreed tentatively.

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><p><em>AN: Ah what a decisively difficult and uncomfortable initial greeting, but I can't imagine having two strangers move into your house is something everyone just accepts. Hope everyone had enjoyed the chapter, please do review. I'd love some feedback on this one. _


	76. Chapter Seventy Five: Vinculum

_A/N: I'm so pleased with all the great feedback I got from the previous chapter, glad to know everyone like it. I was honestly a little nervous with it, trying to make it as realistic as possible was actually very difficult. In my mind I always had the image of the two of them joining with relative ease, but even with Alice's visions, it couldn't have been that easy. So big thanks to everyone who took the time to give me some feedback, you have put me in the right frame of mind to get this out. Thanks also to those who have alerted, favoured. And welcome to those who have joined. _

_viola1701e: It was really difficult to stay away from that image of perfectly preened Alice, but they both lived a nomadic life, so I liked to think she was understanding enough to realise being fashion conscious is unrealistic. Like you said, every addict has to start somewhere. I'm sure they shall bond over something, be it money, or clothes. Thank you for your review, first one to settle my nerves. _

_CullenBoy123: Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'm not one for writing easy relationships, and I think Jasper and Bella will definitely have a very interesting one. They have much to bond over, but just as much to clash. It's one I'm excited to write about. _

_46 Husband Later: Thank you so much for the review, I'm absolutely delighted to hear you liked the greeting. Awkward as per usual for Bella. _

_Holidai: I think it's a gift that can sometimes get overlooked, it must be a strange experience to have your emotions changed so rapidly. Being angry, and knowing you should feel angry, but instead feeling calm, that must be so unnerving. I had to add the room stealing thing; I couldn't help but feel for Edward when he was kicked out of his room. Well this time around he's got someone backing him up. I'm glad you like the lingo, it is the main reason I take so long when getting chapters out. And thanks so much for another great review!_

_leahmarie59: Ah Rose, the main reason I knew Alice and Jasper could have hardly been welcomed with open arms, she's not exactly a friendly one on first meeting. As for Bella and Jasper it's going to be an interesting one. Thanks for the review. _

_Pongu: Thanks so much._

_BadassEri90: You sound about as apprehensive as I was when writing the encounter, it was a nervy one to put out. I'm actually a little happy you were taken off guard (hopefully I've not become predictable.) And even more so delighted to know you liked my take on the meeting, I pondered over the Alice and Bella things for ages. In my mind I had the usual happy go lucky version, but when I wrote it out it was just too unbelievable. And the story arch with Bella's memories…I'm so ecstatic about it. Indeed her gift will be making an appearance, it's all part of the bigger picture. Which I suppose is not long now, seeing as all the family is together. Thank you so much for another great review, and I'll try not to take too much enjoyment from your discomfort. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thanks so much, glad to know you liked. _

_MJElliot: Thank you for the feedback, hope I don't keep you waiting too long. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Seventy Five: Vinculum<span>

July 21st, 1950

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...

..

.

While two extra beings should not have seemed like a huge addition, in a house of only six it was another third added on to a number we had grown so used to. Our coven now had an _impressive_ eight members, enough to start a small, but apparently very capable group of fighters. Should the chance ever present itself.

The house we were currently calling home was indeed big enough to cope with two more, but trying to escape from others and have time alone was now virtually impossible. Every where one went there seemed to be someone else, the only respite came in our room at the very top of the house. But hiding out there induced the likes of Rosalie to come join me, then Edward, and then Emmett, because he wondered where we all were. Until our attic bedroom was full of people, and it was obvious we were being anti-social, so we had to depart downstairs.

And it was not that I overly disliked the pair; even if they were no Amos's, it's just the house and its occupants already had a system, a way of doing, and going about things. Now those things were disrupted.

While I tried my hardest to be pleasant, Rosalie was in no such mind set.

If I disliked change, she abhorred any such notion, and was quite set on making sure everyone within the house knew. So day upon day we were forced to listen to her sarcastic remarks, and biting comments, her leaving the room in a huff, generally being a gripe. At least I had some dexterity in my moans and complaints, venting them in a letter seemed like a good way to go about it.

But for today with other news going on about the house, she was too distracted by the news bulletins to think of anything snarky. All of us -bar Jasper who always preferred to stand- had taken seats around the television to watch the unfolding story. After the invasion of North Korea into the Republic of Korea, the United Nations Security Council had unanimously _condemned_ the actions. And thusly on the twenty seventh of the previous month, President Truman had ordered the US air and sea forces to aid with _so called_ military assistance.

They denied a war, stating it was a conflict. But so far we had been involved within battles, and had our first deaths. And it seemed this was ultimately a fight against communism, and the global containment of such a force. Perhaps this Western world was so desperate to make sure there would never be a repeat of the horrors we had seen less than a decade ago. They wished to annihilate any power that in any way resembled the liked of Adolf Hilter's aggressions.

So today we sat around the small screen listening to yet another account, and being told the US would "vigorously support the effort of the United Nations Security Council to terminate this serious breach of peace." In order to do this the President and the Secretary of State would need over twelve billion dollars to fund the support. Already there had been slight signs throughout Wall Street, things were not moving so quickly, and inflation was beginning to take a hold on the consumer market.

I had decided to wait out the process, not buying or selling any stocks for the time being. Alice could sometimes be a help, she on occasion had seen deals being made on shares, and duly informed me. But Wall Street was fast paced, decisions were made on a split second basis, her visions could not come quick enough for most. Yet anything large and predetermined, she promised me a heads up.

I could have used her before the crash.

Soon enough the more important stories of the day turned to nothing but local mundane issues, and eventually a rather vague account of the weather. Overcast but generally warm, with a chance of storms later on in the eve. Rosalie was first from her seat, straightening out her pink collared dress and looking around the room expectantly.

"Are we going? Or are we just going to sit around all day?" She began, preening herself in the mantle mirror.

"I'm ready." Emmett announced to all. Although he looked like he'd much preferred to sit and watch the Boston, Chicago game, even if it was just to slate Edward's team. But he knew it not wise to upset Rosalie when she was in one of her moods. "Just got to get my jacket."

"I was thinking, Em, how'd you like a nice set of matching gloves and scarf, to go with that stunning tweed you're sporting." I teased. "Maybe even a hat? You know I hear you can get a whole three piece suit made up."

"You know I can sport anything." He replied cheekily, throwing a wink in my direction. "Get me one of those posh walking canes and you got yourself a deal."

"I swear if you even think about leaving the house with a cane, I'll denounce you." Rosalie glowered.

"I think you'd look splendid." Alice grinned, avoiding the heathen of all stares from the blonde across the room.

"I'll pay you to wear it all at once." Edward told him.

"How much?" Emmett replied.

"Fifty bucks."

"Hundred and you have yourself a deal." Emmett bartered, crossing his muscular arms across his chest in mock seriousness. "I'll even throw in the accent."

"I'll pay you another hundred not to." Carlisle interjected. "Let's not force such earache upon the world."

"And what's wrong with my extremely accurate portrayal of the English accent?" He exclaimed, pretending to be affronted by the news. "I've fooled many."

"Who?" Edward laughed at him. "They either think you're mentally challenged or escaped from the asylum."

"Clearly this is a case of jealousy, bet you can feel it radiating off him, Jasper. Just because Bella never got you a tweet jacket, you're all jealous." Emmett declared.

Even Jasper smiled at this. "Off the scale jealousy." He stated simply, actually partaking in the jest.

"Aww, are you jealous?" I cooed at my husband. "I'll get you something nice." Patronisingly patting him on the head.

"Didn't we see some lovely matching jackets in the catalogue?" Esme interjected with an extremely devious kind of smile.

"We did, we did." I nodded in agreement. "Is that what you two want? Matching tweed coats. Set yourselves apart from the crowd."

"How...delightful." Rosalie interrupted with a roll of her golden eyes. "Can we go now?"

To town we lost the blonde, the tweed wearing buffoon, as well as Esme and Carlisle. Wishing them silent luck in dealing with the sheer bout of bitching they were sure to endure during the journey. Edward and I had made the excuse of needing to hunt; we did not possess the patience to deal with her today. But instead that left us home alone with peppy, and not-so-peppy, for the day.

With me becoming a baseball widow at midday; because watching the Chicago White Sox play was laughable, I was dragged outside to hunt beforehand. Alice was quick to accept our open invitation, and naturally Jasper followed on behind.

They were independent in their hunting style, questioning the best places that were far from the mortals, before taking off towards Saddle Mountain State Park. It was a pleasant change being able to leaving others to their own devices, hunting either humans or animals was always a vulnerable moment. I was uncomfortable with putting down my guard with someone like Jasper, and I could tell he was the very same.

He had been extremely blunt with factors regarding his control; he did not put a great deal of belief, or faith in his ability to avoid human blood. Other than such information he gave no other regarding his past, spoke vaguely of having been involved in the Civil War. Jasper seemed a private person, existing on the very line of this diet and his original one. It was only the inclusion of Alice that kept him tethered to us, had she not been here, I had no doubt we would have never met such a man.

While Rosalie saw him as a complete liability, a weak link that could force us from this idyllic place we now called home, I was in two minds about him. Edward told me nothing, other than the obvious confirmation he had indeed been down south for many a year. When I looked upon him, I could not help but find my mind running back to the salt plains, the clashes, the on-going battles of territory. He encompassed everything that I so detested, with his formality, and ever watching gaze. Often we noted the same things, seemed to calculate the room or space around us, observing people.

But that is where we seemed to differ.

I noted things about my family through sheer force of habit, so I could better understand their feelings and thoughts, to make sure I understood them. I love my family, that was given.

But Jasper noted things because to him we were just another threat. Calculating a room to find possible exits, observing the family to make sure they did not pose a threat. Perhaps even his mind-set saw us as just another group of vampires. Just another army.

I should know, I had been there.

But whether it was any of my business was a whole other matter, I wasn't about to go prying where I wasn't wanted. Just continue about my way.

So we did, running in a completely different direction, southwards towards Tillamook forest, and nothing but dense greenery for over seventy miles. Running across land at such a speed, nothing but the splaying of shrubbery, and the occasional crunch of falling feed could be observed. Dodging around the disarray of never ending trees, on a venture in search of something to gorge on. Throwing yourself across the gaps and crevices, scaling along the uneven land.

Hunting was nothing to write home about. There was no luck to my prowess, and so little success in taking down anything larger than the generic and tedious white tailed deer. Unfortunately, it seemed Emmett would remain victorious in the on-going hunt for the largest kill, and with it I would have to endure the subsequent gloating. But perhaps if a storm did come our way tonight, I could just annihilate him in some kind of sporting game. We may even be able to cheer up Rosalie.

Eventually, when I could no longer stall him from the game any longer, and gave up searching for Pygmy rabbits, I went back to our designated spot.

"So close to coming to find you." He told me pointedly.

"Who me?" I feigned innocence. "I told you I was going quite far, nothing decent up this end…then again nothing decent up that end either. And I've broken my shoe." Feeling the need to point out my footwear predicament. "The sole has come unstuck, which should teach me from buying such crappy ones in future. I can see my socks."

"Take them off, then." He said impatiently.

"But then my socks will get dirty…and if I take those off my feet will get dirty." I replied, attempting to keep my best straight face while I watched him get more ardent to leave. In the end I could not help but feel just a little sorry for him, and did take my shoes off, making him carry them all the way home.

We didn't wait for Alice or Jasper, that was thusly the deal seeing as they had gone quite far afield. And no matter how much I attempted to stall Edward from becoming engrossed within the baseball, it didn't work, and I was left to wander the house quite alone. I hoped Chicago would lose, then he would come crawling back to me, and I could console and lord over him with my superior team.

So instead I pottered around, looking for something to occupy my time, and managed to get myself enthralled within the basement. Moving stuff about, wondering if the taxidermist mouse could come up to the attic, trying not to fall into boxes that were surely bigger than I. No matter how organised we all were, with things moving from house to house, there was always a case, a trunk, or box that contained a bounty of items that appeared as if from nowhere. But there was a point to the selective madness, and it was a sewing machine that I was after. Buried deep within the mountain of things, I could barely see the Singer, and hoped there would be no spiders.

Perhaps it was the sheer amount of reordering I was doing that kept the arachnids at bay, just as long as they were far from me I was satisfied. The Singer was pulled from the pile, and to more interesting pursuits I ascended.

Uncouthly meeting both Alice and Jasper, as they returned from their hunt.

"Productive, I hope?"

"Oh extremely." Alice declared, slipping out of her small worn pumps and placing them in one of the spare shoe cubbies. "We went so far east, and not a single human dwelling. It was very productive, wasn't it?"

"Extremely." Jasper concluded, looking a great deal better now his eyes shone a brighter gold. "This is a prime area." Almost forcing him to make a deal of small talk.

"Indeed." I nodded slowly, moving the sewing machine box onto my hip. "This area is turning out to be a firm favourite of ours."

"Are you going to sew something?" Alice asked eagerly.

"That was the plan." I replied, considering the box in my arms. "When you live with the likes of Emmett…and Edward, and their little scuffles, lots of things need repairing. It's uneconomical to keep buying them new things…the other machine had sadly met its demise. Thought I'd retrieve this one."

"How fascinating." She replied, indeed looking a great deal interested in the prospect of sewing. I could understand why, she like me, was a good deal smaller than most human females, trying to find clothes that fit was sometimes a chore. The items Esme had lent her were a little too big.

"You know…I have a great deal of clothing, a small horde in fact. We look around the same size…perhaps we can find something more suitable for you, until those items come from the catalogue." I offered.

"Really?" She questioned emphatically, looking far more eager than I had anticipated.

"Of course." I nodded. "After all, each one of us has been presented with clothing upon joining this coven. I'm sure I can find something that should fit you too, Jasper. With a sewing machine there is not much I cannot fashion."

"Can I help?" She questioned. "I'd love to learn how to use a sewing machine."

"Sure." I agreed, wondering what possible harm it could do.

That merely left Jasper, standing to the side and watching the proceedings. I wasn't really sure what to say to him. "Edward's in the lounge, watching the baseball. I'm afraid you might not get a decent conversation out of him...unless you like the Chicago White Sox."

"I'm not a huge...fan of baseball. That is to say, I don't particularly follow a team." Jasper replied pointedly.

"Oh." I sounded aloud, the noise making the whole experience so extremely gauche. "It's most probably best you don't say that too loud, we have some extremely avid fans in the house." My jest seemed to fall quite flat. "Well then, I'm sure you can thusly entertain yourself." I gave up making small talk, and instead went off to find a decent electrical socket to plug in the sewing machine. Leaving Alice to whisper her scolding to him.

Honestly, I had at better things to do than make pleasantries.

"Everything alright?" Edward questioned quietly, appearing at the threshold as I passed by.

"Delightful." I responded, rolling my eyes in the hopes that would be sufficient enough in explaining. "I'll divulge you later, but prepare yourself, I'm running out of niceties."

"Want me to come stand in the way?" He responded.

"No." I smiled. "I wouldn't even dream of stopping you from watching your team epically lose. You might get ideas of grandeur, then where should we be?"

"Winning." He replied smugly. "Three to one, sixth innings."

"You sure you're looking at the right team scores? That doesn't sound like the Sox." I told him. "Wait… is Carrasquel playing?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Yes. Why?"

"Chico Carrasquel?" Alice interrupted, standing a fathom away. "Oh, he is absolutely adorable."

"He's a little young for me." I joked. "But I can appreciate a pretty face, and the only decent talent the Sox have."

"Nonsense, if I can admire Chip Marshall, then you can have Carraquel."

"If this is going to me one of _those_ conversations, then I'm going to go watch the adverts." Edward decided, shaking his head and leaving Alice and I to discuss things which did not concern him.

"Shall we." I gestured towards the stairs, allowing her to go ahead. "So what team does he play for? I've never even heard of Chip Marshall."

"No, I can't imagine many have this far north, but he is rather popular in the southern states. Plays for the Houston Buffaloes." She replied; carrying on ahead as I motion for her to straight up the hidden staircase. "This is so cute, it's like you live in secret…in the cupboard."

"That's the impression we were going for…" I tried. "Keeps the riffraff at bay, and dregs below stairs."

Her laugh was as pitched as she was tall, half giggle, half chortle, and I was thoroughly disappointed there was no snort to round it off. "I love the wallpaper." Came the first of many compliments, as she flit around the large space. Admiring the furniture, the numerous trinkets I kept on the vanity, the mirage of pictures, photographs, and other such random items on the walls. "How did you manage to get Edward to agree to all this, it's so pretty."

"The same way every woman gets a man to do her bidding, feminine wiles, and blackmail." I responded. "From what I've seen you've got that well covered."

"I like to think so." She nodded slowly. "Look…I'm not sorry about Jasper."

"I shouldn't expect you to be." I replied tentatively, at another change of conversational pace.

"But…just to let you know he is a very cautious being, always has been, since as long as I've known him." She fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. "I've seen us all happy together…I just don't know how to get to that point."

"Maybe it's not something you can do. Relationships between people do not come easily, just take Rosalie and I. We did not have a favourable accord with each other, and it took a very long time for us to forge any type of kinship. I think it will just take time. You trust in your visions?"

"I do." She said straight.

"And they have given you no indication on how to get to the end point, maybe there is no fool proof way. You're just going to have to be like the rest of us, just blunder your way through."

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><p><em>AN: Thanks for taking the time to read, hope you have enjoyed. Reviews very much appreciated. And anyone looking for a super friendly forum please check out:_ _Twilight Fanfiction Challenges and Competitions. They are just getting started, and have a heap of contests if anyone is looking for some story prompts. _


	77. Chapter Seventy Six: Oro

_A/N: Thank all for the great responses for the last chapters, great encouragement to continue onwards with getting's these out. I'm off on my holiday this week, so an update may be a little slow coming, but I'll see what I can do. Thanks also for the reviews; I can't quite believe we have reached just over four hundred and fifty. And much appreciative of the alerts and favours. _

_Holidai: It's kind of weird that I never really liked Rosalie at first, but throughout the process of writing her, she's turned out to be a real favourite of mine. I like to think her cold personality towards newcomers is just because she hates change, and likes things to stay comfortably the same. I'm glad you liked Alice and Bella; they are just beginning to find some common ground. So long it seems have spent pondering over Alice's visions, in some ways I love the idea of the future aspects… and other times I can view it as a complete headache. It's such a hard thing to write. I really don't want her to be all knowing, where is the fun in that? So (and maybe this is a bad thing) I tried giving her visions flaws. So I'm so glad you liked my kind of take on it. Thanks so much for the review!_

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thanks for the feedback. _

_46 Husbands Later: Good to hear. Indeed that initial bond is beginning to form. Thanks for the review. _

_CullenBoy123: Thrifty times call for people knowing their way around a sewing machine, I very much like the idea of sewing (although I have no such talents.) It's definitely something they can find common ground over. Thanks for reviewing. _

_viola1710a: Can't imagine he's having the best of times, he's not quite got the charm of Alice. Thanks for the feedback._

_reader346: Well you are looking at another fellow lazy being, so I'll forgive you! It's nice to hear from you whenever, thanks so much for the encouragement. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Seventy Six: Oro<span>

July 23rd July 1950

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Patiently I waited, just one person behind my designated destination, and triumph in today's business about town. But the man before me was tedious in his vocation, sorting out his bout of medication with the nurse behind the reception desk. She seemed to possess the patience of a saint, nodding along with the man's rambles, before kindly directing him towards more successful pursuit in the hospital pharmacy.

Finally, it seemed it was my turn.

"Good afternoon, how can I help you?" The woman began, fixing me with a smile. She was quite a young woman, mid-twenties or so, a pretty girl who kept accidentally making eye contact with the ring on her left index finger. A recent engagement it seemed.

"Good afternoon." I replied, moving over to the lower height desk. "I'm here to see Doctor Cullen."

"Do you have an appointment?" She questioned, studying me a little closer.

"No, I'm his sister." I informed. "I've come to drop off his lunch; he was in such a rush this morning he completely forgot." Gesturing to the bag. "Could I trouble you to call him down?"

"Of course not." She readily agreed. "Please, take a seat. And I'll see if he is available."

"That's alright, I don't mind waiting if he's busy." From the desk, I departed, scouting out a seat away from the humans and their paper related and appointment based problems. They looked at me, and watched me from the corner of their eyes. It didn't help my emerald coat seemed to be the brightest thing in the room, like a beacon attempting to hide away from view.

I avoided making eye contact with a particularly eager man sitting across the way; he seemed to be looking for any chance to engage me in talk. A copy of Harper's Bazaar I had purchased on the way here became a well needed social barrier. Lucky I was not forced to wait long, and through the doors Carlisle strode.

He looked first a little concerned, I could not blame him, it was once in a blue moon anyone ever came to visit him in the hospital. But I liked to think my content smile was enough to soothe his fears, or maybe it was the lack of a turbulent body language.

"I was not expecting you." He said good naturedly, as we greeted with a cheek-to-cheek kiss.

"Of course you weren't." I replied. "But I was in the area, thought I'd drop in with some things I picked up from the sorting office."

"Ah." He acknowledged. Everything seemed to make sense to him now. "Well you have come at a prime time; I have a spare couple of minutes between my duties."

"Excellent. Show me to your office, for I assume you have one."

"Onwards then." He guided me passed the swinging doors, along the corridors, before we descended down several flights of steep stairs.

"I thought you were exempt from mortuary work?" I questioned, already able to smell the bleach and disinfectants the lower we disembarked.

"I am." He confirmed. "But the secretarial rooms, and offices are all below ground. It's quite a small hospital." I took his word for that.

Onwards we continued, from the stairs into a rather dingy passageway, made all the more eerie by the floor runner's, ready from the morgue gurneys. The lighting left much to be desired, and the odd wall painting wouldn't have gone amiss. But we continued anyway, passing numerous doors that were unchronologically numbered. Finally, just before the hall ended at a set of white washed metal doors, we reached our destination.

"How… fortunate." I motioned towards the coroner's office across the way. "Just the issue I have come to discuss."

"After you." He indicated into the room.

It was small, just big enough for a desk and a bookshelf. There were no windows, the only light coming from the uncomfortable bright electrical overhead. But other than some medical textbooks, and odd photographs of the family it was almost stark bare.

"I'll be honest with you Carlisle, it's a little grim. I'd buy you a potted plant, if there was an inclination of sunlight." I declared, walking the room in one small round. "Perhaps a fake one will suffice."

"Seeing as I spent little to no time in here, it would remain much under appreciated." He replied, sitting down behind his desk and looking ready for me to divulge my information. "So what's this lunch you've bought me?"

"Some delightful death certificates." I handed him the manila envelopes from my carpet bag. "Edward and I need to… well, we need to die. There are also a couple spares documents. Just need the corner stamp, and signature. Then I can send them off, sort out the inheritance and such."

"Well, I think that's something I can sort out." He replied.

"There are also new sets of birth certificates; I suppose if Alice and Jasper are to stay, it's something they will need. Bank accounts, drivers licenses…the usual."

"Can I assume you are coming around to the idea?" He questioned, still studying the papers within his grasp.

"I'm keeping my cards close to my chest; it will take some time before I come up with a definitive answer for you." I responded. "I mean, Alice seemed like a riot. I can imagine myself finding common ground with her."

"And do I dare question your feelings on Jasper?"

"I'll refrain from commenting too much. We don't seem to have very much to speak about. I don't think there is a middle ground. But I'll remain civil." I responded. "Oh, and if I were you, aim to come home gone six o'clock."

"I'm almost afraid to ask."

"It's not overly a bad thing. Just Rosalie was planning on going to see a film, and then the fan belt snapped in the Buick, she was not happy, and there was a great deal of swearing. Everyone else decided to go hunting, and I came to town." I explained.

"Did you come on foot?"

"No, but I wish I had." I complained. "I took the bus. It was horrid. And I shan't do it again."

"The bus." He mused. "Very brave of you."

"I thought I should try something new. And I wouldn't recommend it. There were too many people, and dogs on the bus. Animals do not overly favour me-" We deliberately quietened the conversation, as footsteps squeaked along the corridor outside. Faltering a little way down, before resuming their pace in our direction. Almost with a lurch they stopped outside the door, and the human on the other side knocked a feeble twice. I moved to the one side as Carlisle called for them to enter.

"Doctor Cullen." He began looking a little flushed. "Erm, sorry I didn't mean to interrupt." The man stuttered, catching sight of me standing in the corner.

"Not at all." Carlisle assured, standing from his seat. "Doctor Holt, this is my sister Isabella. Isabella, Doctor Holt."

"Nice to meet you." I dictated, moving forward to offer my gloved hand to the man.

"Yes, very nice to meet you too." He replied, shaking my hand rather weakly, before pushing his round wired frame glasses up his nose, and not making a great deal of eye contact.

"Was there something you were after, Daniel?" Carlisle questioned the rather dithery man.

"Yes, erm, we were hoping you would come and take a look at the patient in ward six. He appears to have developed some…complications." The man replied.

"Then I shall take my leave." I declared, brushing down my coat. "You seem to be very busy, and I don't wish to get in anyone's way."

"I'm sorry." Daniel said again, looking a deal abashed. "I don't want to seem like I'm forcing you away."

"That's quite alright." I assured him, pulling out a bright smiled and enjoying his feverish blush. "I've got other things to accomplish today." Carlisle's pointed look was ignored.

"Why don't we walk you out, Isabella?" My _brother _stated, taking my arm before I had chance to make the poor human blunder anymore.

Carlisle walked constantly at my side, and the very sweet, but bumbling Doctor, following on diligently behind us. We parted ways, and I turned right from the hospital and onwards towards town. Heading for the nearest auto repair shop, as well as a routine and very necessary visit to the library.

The day had been much overcast, but much like Alice had predicted come two o'clock the cloud began to split, and the sun managed to reach the ground at uneven intervals. By this time I was safety within the realm of the books, with a rubber fan belt tucked in my rather large bag. And with said sun, raging outside, I found myself happily stuck.

I impeached any person to declare a finer institute than that selling or lending out books.

Stupidity ran rife with those that did not read, or seek to improve their intellect. And the best of people always seemed to lurk within the library.

As usual, I haunted my way through the shelves, through different sections, different genres, at the mercy of the beautifully logical Dewey Decimal Classification System. Looking out for something that had yet to take my fancy. And thusly I came across nine hundred and seventy three point seven: the American Civil War.

It was not a topic I would openly admit to having read much into, I normally like to read books on technical advancements, financing, and classical literature. But today I found myself quite taken with this usually neglected section I often passed by. After all, there was a Civil War veteran at home, and there was no excuse for ignorance. Gathering information seemed to help when it came to identifying an enemy, surely the same should apply when trying to understand a person.

So from the shelves, I selected a couple, hoping to choose those that held multiple notions, and contained different points of view. Once I had secured the piled in my arms, I found a good spot at the large referencing tables and began to educate myself. Leafing through the politics, reading up on the technical aspects, and trying to piece together the personal chronicles. Eventually my strange horde of books, and endless page turning seemed to induce the attention of one of the librarians.

"Excuse me, Miss." The deep baritone voice sounded. "You quite finished with that book?"

I looked up from my reading, acting a little startled, before nodding to suggest that I was quite done.

"I hope you don't mind me saying, you've got quite the eclectic taste." The older man stated, turning the book over in his rough hands. "You are a regular here."

"That I am." I agreed. "And I have been told quite a few times, my tastes are quite widely ranged."

"The Civil War." He mused, straining his eyes to read the smaller print on the blurb. "Not a light read, would you recommend?"

"Oh, very much so." I told him. "I'm looking to…widen my horizons. And this took my fancy, it's a very detailed account. Is this something you have an interest in too?"

"I like many a topic." He smiled. "But it is my daughter, I'm wondering over. She has a class paper due in, on the Battle of Fort Sumter. Said I'd take a look for her."

"Well." I stalled, rummaging through the pile I had accumulated, eventually finding the one I was after. "I found this one to me most informative about the major battles, perhaps give it a try."

"Oh, that would do very nicely." He declared. "But you sure you don't need to take this one, I would be doing an awful job if I were taking the books from our readers."

"No not at all." I smiled, careful not to scare the man with my teeth. "I'm done with it…would you liked to sit? Maybe I can help you find something else?" Watching the older man sway on his feet was a little concerning.

"I would very much like that. But I'm afraid I have to decline. I can feel the head librarian's eyes burning into my back." He laughed, gesturing subtly to the large desk in the corner. "She's not overly keen on folks of my colour having a job here, looking for any chance to give me the ol' heave-ho."

I looked around, viewing the tight lipped woman watching us from her great desk. "Well then, mind yourself. Just remember next time I come in I expect to see you, if not there shall be hell to pay."

He let out a quiet chuckle, nodded in agreement, and continued on with his book ladened trolley.

It was a good while later that I reluctantly finished up with my reading, knowing I would have to make a move back home before the next bout of sun announced itself. Having successfully told the woman in the library what an absolute delight the trolley man had been, and how I hoped I should see him the next time I came in, I departed. Under arm a book on medieval monarchy and my carpet bag balancing on the other. The humans had been strangely coherent, it was an odd occurrence for me to find such good natured conversation, and not wish any sort of violence towards them.

Although I still did not wish to take the bus.

So instead I decided to walk the nine miles back to the house. Trudging through the city streets, and avoiding the slower paced mortals. It was only when I reached the very end of the suburbs, that I could finally diverge into the woodlands and disappear from the streets. Starting a run that would bring me back to the house in a mere fraction of the time.

Unfortunately, upon arriving back at the house, the tranquil calm that I had so hoped for was completely dashed. Someone; easily identified as Rosalie, was yelling, and screeching like a banshee. I came so close to turning back around and returning later. But there was no escape when the argument spilled out onto the porch, and I was thusly caught.

It turned out there was no argument to be had, Rosalie was venting out her anger at anyone who would listen.

"He's a liability." She hissed loudly, before spotting me trying to slowly make my way up the garden path. "He's fucking slipped."

"He hasn't actually slipped." Edward was quick to correct her rant.

"What's been happening?" I questioned, hoping to get an intelligible answer from someone other than Rosalie. "I've only been gone a couple of hours."

"It's a joke." Rosalie spat. "He's gone and attacked someone."

"He didn't actually attack the man." Edward interjected.

But Rosalie was laxed to listen. "As good as." She raged, throwing her hands about for good measure. "He's fucked up, and then we will have to move all over again.

I could only share questionings glances with the rest of the family, but they were too enthralled with trying to calm her down to give me any definitive answers. Talk of a possible slip up, and then leaving me hanging with such words. "Can someone please tell me what's going on?" I called a little louder than necessary.

"He's slipped." Rosalie replied with a bite.

"He hasn't slipped." Edward corrected again.

"That's not an answer." I snapped.

"Enough." Esme decided loudly above our ongoing prattle. "Rosalie, calm down. We're acting like a bunch of savages out here, yelling and arguing."

While Rosalie was clearly rebuffed about being reprimanded, she did nothing to dispute with Esme, and merely huffed herself into a sour silence. Even Emmett gave her some space.

"There has been a little incident." Esme began with a dignified calm.

"Little." Rosalie scoffed.

"A small plane came down near Saddle Mountain." Edward finally explained. "The two pilots were already dead, and Alice managed to pull Jasper away. They've gone south to hunt."

"And the corpses? Have the authorities been called yet?" I questioned.

"We put in an anonymous call." Emmett supplied. "Told them, we had seen the plane go down over the mountain."

"So...everything's been sorted...does Carlisle know?" I pondered.

"I called him at the hospital." Esme answered. "Told him, he needn't come home early, as everything is fine. There's no need for us to get all distorted over something that was not within our control, a complete accident."

"He could have slipped, exposed us all." Rosalie interjected again, her face contorted into something horrid.

"But he didn't." I argued. "There was no breach in our territorial rules. So we can't reprimand him." Came my reasoning.

"He can't control himself." Rosalie argued back. "He's a liability."

"It was a freak accident. It's not every day a plane falls from the sky. I should imagine there was a large amount of blood, I would not bet my control on such an occurrence. And I'd not bet yours." I told her.

"Says you." She sneered.

I sat back on my haunches, at first a little shocked she would use such words against me, assuring myself I was mistaken. But it was Edward's warning growl to her, that set me back within my nerve. "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that, and I'll just put it down to an off day. Otherwise you are being an over pretentious bitch."

She did not take well to this, stalking passed me and inducing a deliberate collision of her arm into mine. "Watch yourself." I growled at her. Holding back my hand from grabbing out, how easy it would be to strike her.

Emmett could only throw us an apologetic glance, before following after his wife, as she stormed into the house. Slamming doors in her wake and making the window glass rattle.

"I'm going for a run…or a hunt, just something." I managed to announce between my teeth. Dumping my bag onto the porch bench. "If she stops being a bitch for five minutes, someone can tell her I managed to get another fan belt for the car...oh and she owes me four dollars for it."

I deflected off into the woodlands before I let my chagrin take over, it was much more civil of me to take it out on flora, rather than the house, or those within the house. But somehow I manage to attract myself a husband. It just happened to be a moment when I was not particularly up for sharing emotions, for I had nothing particularly good to share.

"You don't have to come." I assured him bluntly. "I'm hardly going to be good company. Possible rages, tantrums, and the general smashing of things."

"I'll take my chances." He replied, taking a strong hold of my hand. In turn my muscles coiled violently at the contact, fighting against the slight inclination of restraint. But he did not comment, or let go. "Rages and all."

"You are either insane or very foolish." I stated, bolting my way through the undergrowth with little care for anything that fell beneath my feet. He followed on after me, finding a way passed the destruction.

"I'm going to answer all of the above." He responded. "But I like to think I'm being supportive."

"Supportive of me being in a rage?" I questioned tersely, failing to avoid a group of hawthorn bushes and ploughing straight through. "Because right now I'm pretty angry…Rosalie is trying my limited patience."

"She was adamant in thinking you'd take her side." He divulged.

"And I would have." I argued. "Had there been a legitimate reason for me to admonish Jasper. But a fucking plane falling from the sky, does not constitute legitimate reason. I can't call him out on slipping if the humans are already dead….did he bite them?"

"No, Alice managed to get to him in time."

"Exactly, so he didn't break any rule." I ranted loudly. " If I took her side, I would be doing so as a complete hypocrite. I'm not in the business of being hypocritical. I slipped up more times that I care to count, eight bloody years I went back to hunting humans. I have no right to judge anyone. And she wants me to take sides… well I blatantly refuse."

He caught my fists as I attempted to lash out towards some unsuspecting tree. Twisting me around so I was captured within my own arms, and resting his chin upon my head. "Are you done having a rant?" He questioned.

"For now." I muttered. "But I'm not apologising to her."

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><p><em>AN: Well, I can't say it's my most pleasant of chapters, feels a little out of sorts, but I'm generally content with everyone enjoys, and please leave a review._


	78. Chapter Seventy Seven: Procella

_A/N: Really not very much to divulge in, I'm now back from my holiday, so hopefully updates should be a little quicker. But then unfortunately Uni is once again calling, so we shall see what that work load brings about. Thanks for the reviews, alerts, and favourites._

_viola1701e: Rosalie is indeed very judgmental, but I think she is the type who cannot abide by change, and seeing as everyone (even Bella) is seemingly excepting these new vampires…she's doing what she does best. We'll get there eventually. Thanks for reviewing. _

_Holiday: I'm glad you do, it was not one of my favourites. And that is exactly it, maybe they are of the opinion of watching and waiting before looking to become invested with a relationship. They have a good thing going, a well-balanced coven, and now these two other people, who are causing (even if they don't been too) some disruption. As always I like to cram in as much social history as I can into one chapter, sometimes in a strange roundabout way. But as always thanks so much the encouraging review. _

_AndiCullen104: Thanks for the review, and the lovely comment. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thanking you as per usual._

_46 Husbands Later: Thank you for reviewing. _

_CullenBoy123: Rosalie and her disagreeable ways, I don't think she was quite expecting Bella to go and defend Jasper. Most probably took her a little off guard, after all it is normally Bella who is so vehemently against change. Thank you for taking the time to review, and I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long. _

_Daddy's Little Angel: How kind you are, and welcome back to the thralls of the story. Indeed I think research is an important factor, trying to write the origins of the characters countenance without such is almost impossible. Hope you continue to read and enjoy. _

_reader346: Thanks very much, I'm glad you think so. It was not my favourite one._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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Chapter Seventy Seven: Procella

July 26th 1950

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"I'm not apologising." I announced defiantly to the room and its sole occupant. Kicking my feet angrily into the duvet that I was currently encompassed within, and messing up an already unkept mass of blankets.

"So you keep saying." Edward replied. Continuing to put up the new shelves I needed for my growing collection of utterly random items I kept acquiring, an affinity for books, trinkets, and jewellery, all needed a place to go. I was just lucky enough to bunk with a person of considerable height, and one who possessed the ability to put up shelves.

"Only so you don't forget." I responded pathetically.

"I promise I'll not forget." He said. "But you should know, Rosalie is absolute she was in the right, don't expect an apology from her."

"Well, then I guess no one will ever apologise." I told him defiantly. "And we shall never speak to one another ever again."

"Wouldn't it just be easier if you made the first move?" He made everything sound so unbelievably simple, but this disagreement was between Rosalie and I, two stubborn and high maintenance beings. This could not be overcome with a simple sorry.

"No." I eventually replied. "It doesn't work that way. Plus I'd then be admitting to being in the wrong... I may have worded things bluntly-"

"Apologise for that, then." He stated, slightly distracted by levelling the shelf against the wall.

"But!" I called loudly in interruption. "She was still at fault for her over reaction. I may be impertinently childish sometimes, but I was very much alive and kicking before she was even born, I am old and stubborn and I shall not apologise for anything... other than being slightly abrasive."

"So...you are going to apologise?" He summed. Vexing me to know end with his smarts, and ability to make me change my mind.

"You are so extremely troublesome." I grappled for a pillow and launched it at him with a poor display of skill. Then having to dodge the item as it was thrown back, and he came to join me in the small fort of blankets. "I should have married Isadore Bernstein when I had the chance, bet I wouldn't have had to deal with such smarts."

"The Bernstein's have been in Marquette Branch Prison since thirty two, and are serving life...who would put up your shelves?" He jibed. Trying to pull at the duvet I had wrapped myself in.

"You sure those shelves are straight?" I queried. "The one on the right looks questionable."

He gave me a pointed look. "It's fine."

"How do you know, you never used a spirit level?" I teased. Only hiding myself deeper within the mass of fabric, when he attempted to take it from me.

"You can't accuse me, when you can't even reach the shelves." He said.

"I can so." I defied. Rather successfully managing to punch him in the arm, even with my limbs entangled within the bedding. "Just pull up a chair."

"So…you technically need aid." He laughed.

"Shut up." I muttered.

Bickering was forgone when there came a knock on our door; a door that was all the way down the spiral staircase and thusly resembled a cupboard. The tapping was slightly fanatical, but dainty enough for me to guess a culprit almost immediately.

"Family meeting, congregation around the table." Correctly confirmed as Alice, when she began to call for our attention.

"On our way." I called back, fixing the stairs with an unfavourable glower of contempt. Such a meet would surely mean Rosalie and I would be forced together, I hoped to avoid her for as long as possible.

"Come on." Edward encouraged. Managing to pull me quite gracefully to my own feet, but I was lax at having to depart from the comfort of hiding in bed.

"Do not make me sit next to her." I whispered, pulling on his shirt cuff to prove my insistence. "I cannot be civil in such proximity."

"I shan't make you do anything, just promise to try and be civil." He replied, guiding me down the wrought iron stairs and out of the safety of our cupboard room.

"I can't make any such promise." I muttered in return.

We joined up with Alice in a strange moment of synchronisation, as she waited directly outside our door. Looking a good deal better than she had when we had first met, a new set of clothes had been a definite improvement upon her image, and in turn on her countenance. But one thing I had come to learn about Alice was her slowly developing habits, she, very much like myself, liked to collect things. Horde material possessions.

Even in the short time she had lived with us, Alice had collected a fine bounty of things. It would be a deal difficult to evict her and all her items, perhaps that was her reasoning. But I liked to think the words that fell from her mouth worked in turn with the processes of her thoughts, and she was not a deceptive as I often presumed. And these items were merely a collection of things she considered important, things that made her feel like she belonged within the house.

But upon the instances I had entered into Alice's- and subsequently Jasper's- room, other than clothing, there was not one item I could place as belonging to him. I was quite assured this was not due to Alice and her sometimes overbearing ways. Leaving me to wonder if Jasper really saw himself staying for good, or whether we were failing as a family to provide somewhere he felt easy. But try as I might, I found it impossible to enter into any such conversation with him. And we were stuck at mere pleasant greetings, and awkward questions of necessity.

The obvious pretence of past occupations seemed to hang between us, as we both induced ways to cover up scars and pretend we did not come from that world. That we did not have that in common. And looking at each other did not bring on bouts of restlessness, and unease.

"I think this is so exciting." Alice divulged.

"You think congregation around the dining table is exciting?" I questioned somewhat quizzically. "It's really not that interesting." She merely smiled in response, and I accepted our ideas of excitement were clearly very different from one another.

In usual fashion we all found ourselves sitting, or hovering around the table. An eccentrically informal event, that seemed to work a good deal better when everyone was in a formal setting. I decided the seat directly opposite the head of the table would be mine, while having my own space; it was comfortably far from the likes of Rosalie. Eagerly Alice took the seat to my right, and coerced Jasper into taking the one at her side.

"What's with all the paper?" Came Emmett's rapid questions, as he finally took a seat at the long dining table. Having been distracted by something on the television.

"Well as per usual, there are multiple papers I need you all to sign. Driver's permits, passports, and the now very necessary signatures for school." Carlisle answered, doling out paper after paper.

"School." Emmett chuckled to himself. "Fun times… maths not so much."

"Let me guess…you were more of a sporting student?" I gaged, scrawling my name onto the designated line.

"Best hitter at Pigeon Forge School." He replied proudly. "Wasn't clever enough to go to high school, but no one could beat my record."

"That's alright, Em. I've never been to school so you've gotten further than me in the education system." I responded.

"Me neither." Alice chirped, as she twirled her pen between her fingers. "I think it would be fascinating."

"Yeah, but you'd have to be really careful when you played sport, humans are way too fragile." Emmett decided rather bluntly. "I'd have to watch my strength…but sure, why not? I'd give it a go."

"You would honestly attend high school?" I asked him rather sceptically.

He nodded his head in confirmation, and even Edward stated he was indeed truthful in his exclamations. "I would. Everyone is always saying how young people should better themselves through education." Emmett stated.

Alice did well to hide her giggle behind her hand, while the rest of us looked towards him with a strange sort of consideration.

"That's…that's very true." Carlisle tried.

"Also, I am much more in touch with the humans. Being the youngest and all." He added.

"No you're not." Rosalie interjected, giving him a bizarre look. "You were born in January, and I November."

"I was counting vampire years." He affirmed. "Fifteen, and ready for high school."

"Well I guess it will just be you and Rosalie, for the rest of us are too old." Esme said.

"There is no way I would ever do such a thing." Rosalie announced with a decisive toss of her hair. "So you'd be on your own."

"I'd do it." Alice stated.

"You've seen it." Said Edward with a degree of pre-knowledge, narrowing his eyes at something the rest of us were significantly unaware of. "Enrolling." He muttered quizzically.

"Indeed." Alice nodded empathetically. "We are at least going to make the effort."

"How will it even work?" Edward questioned her, as he sat back in his chair and forgo his papers. "I can't even begin to imagine how we could."

"But I have seen us making an attempt; therefore we have obviously discussed it, and come to some kind of agreement or compromise." She replied rapidly, tucking her legs beneath her and gaining a little height over the table top.

"What's going on?" Emmett demanded, waving his hands about to gain some attention. "We don't all have these power things."

"We're going to enrol for school." Alice announced eagerly to the table, the palms of her hands resting flat against the polished wood as she addressed us all.

Rosalie clicked her tongue disapprovingly, and while I really was out of sorts of her at the moment, I was in complete agreement with her sentiments. "I have absolutely no interest in going to...school." I told her plainly. "In fact, I can think of nothing I'd rather do less."

"Me too." Rosalie added.

"That's not to say you all can't attend, just count me out." I confirmed, going back to filling my details into the last bit of paper work.

"You have seen it, Alice?" Carlisle questioned.

They became enthralled within a conversation regarding the how's, and if's, of possibly joining a human school. The whole idea seemed absolutely preposterous, a set too far for myself. It seemed Jasper considered it as much as I did; he did not participate in anything, merely kept his eyes down and carefully filled out a driving permit. I watched him from my peripheral vision, studying the illegal document with a keen eye. Rubbing the official paper between his fingers, and viewing the holographic markers with a critical appreciation.

"These are very good." He finally declared, noting my gaze upon him. "I can barely trace an error."

"Good to hear." I responded quietly, allowing the rest of the family to converse above us. "It took me a while to find a decent, and reputable, supplier."

"They supply all these?" He gestured to the horde of things on the table.

"Yes, Jenks is very good at purveying a great deal of different papers and documents. Practically everything one could imagine, although limited to those of US origins. But I have another, with such skills."

"You seem to have many...connections. I have heard many things about investments." He was cautious with his wording, deliberating over his conversation.

"I liked to be...connected." I replied. "It bodes well for me to feel like I have things in control, managing investments and financing...it is independence."

He nodded in understanding, hands neatly clasped on the table. "I can relate."

"Then may I suggest investing in a relatively new field?" I questioned rather boldly, having to look past Alice and her forever excitable movements, as plans seemed to be moving forward on the school front. "Only if you wish."

"Please do." He agreed. "I would be most interested to try my hand."

"Maybe…we should leave everyone to their discussions?" I offered.

He nodded in agreement, and with forenote to the family we excused ourselves from the table, deciding occupancy of the library would best be suited for our needs. He did not sit; I expected as much, but calmly gaged the bounty of books, as I sort the item I was after. Having to look through a terribly messy system of filing, not helped by everyone seemingly introducing their own ideas of organisation.

"You are not interested by the idea of attending a school." He said simply, hands clasped behind his back and idly considering the collection of Greek literature.

"I dislike being around humans on mere visits to town, I cannot imagine myself having to be within such a confined space with them." I replied. "But that is my opinion. The others seem excited about it, I won't stop them…How about you?"

He shook his head. "It is not within my control."

"Then, I suppose, other pursuits must be undertaken to keep us entertained." I held up a thesis paper. "This has just recently come into my hands, and I have not made any decisions upon it yet."

Jasper took the pile of neatly bound paper from my hands. "It is merely a draft, but has all the information." I told him.

"Human and computer intelligence." He read aloud. "A very modern concept, how did you come across this?"

"I seem to have a habit of gathering the strangest of things." I told him. "This particular paper came though the Bristol Aeroplane Company, I've been a share holder for…quite a while now. Throughout the war my funding when towards the design and building of the Beaufighter, and subsequently towards new computing technologies. This paper was sent my way on behalf of the company, they wanted to know if I would consider maybe funding Mr Turing. The whole subject sounds very fascinating…but I'll let you read."

He flicked through the pages, studying the diagrams with due attention. "This is very interesting. Do you mind if I take this to read?"

"Not at all." I agreed quite heartedly. Emphatic that some kind of common ground had been found, even if it was the most basic of conversations. But as long as it was civil, and there were no mentions of anything of the southern variety; excluding of course the likes of actual Texas, then we were well on the way to having the longest tête-à-tête we had ever had.

Cleary however Rosalie did not get the memo regarding Jasper and I making an effort, for she stalked into the room with her usual prowess. Looking upon us with her critical eye. "Suppose this is the room with all the school dropouts." She commented.

"I suppose it is." Jasper replied tersely.

"Joy." She muttered, doing well to stand as far away from him as possible. "Oh and apparently there is a storm coming."

"A storm? You mean a thunder storm?" I clarified.

"That's what she insinuated." Rosalie replied, twisting the dial on the radio to tune into a station. It buzzed and squawked its way through the channels, interludes of musical notes and random voices. Stopping eventually on the local weather station, as it listed the marine and coastal forecast for the following days. "Guess she was right."

"Sounds like perfect weather for a game." I announced aloud, trying my best to instil some conversation between us all. "It's been a while since the last one."

"It's a good job I have watched a game, then." Jasper replied, eluding a coy smile.

"I hope you've caught on quickly. Having not played before, is not a legitimate excuse. Some people are extremely competitive….and by some people I mean pretty much everyone in the house." I relayed.

"Noted." He replied.

Things could only then progressively get worse, as Jasper excused himself from the room to go read the proposal, leaving Rosalie and I alone. She had the courtesy to wait until he was out of range before beginning her barrage.

"You two seem to be getting on well." She accused.

I first replied with a haggard sigh, making sure it was loud enough to display how little I regarded this throng of conversation." So very well." I quipped, gazing away towards the book shelved save the eye contact. "We've already picked out dress patterns, and started braiding each other's hair."

Her only response was to change the radio channel; to subsequent garish music listening, and then turn up the volume. I could tell this was not going to go well. "How can you be so blasé about everything?" She began.

"I should not call it…blasé." I responded. "I am merely making the most of a situation that has presented itself."

"Presented?" She mirror incredibly. "They have encroached upon us."

"I believe that is being very hypocritical, have we not all encroached on each other than one point or another?" I inquired.

She narrowed her eyes at me, once again unhappy with the response in which I had bestowed on her. I hated having to verbally spar with Rosalie, her tongue was sharp when provoked, and her words had the unfortunate skill of hitting their mark.

"Alright, fine then." I bristled. "In all honesty, I'll confess I did not like them on first meeting. Going so far as to say I loathed."

"You have had a surprisingly rapid change of mind." She shot back.

"No." I replied bluntly. "My mind has not completely changed; they are still mere strangers to me. But if we are to become family, as Alice so insists, I want to have a peaceful coexistence with these people."

"And what of him?" She questioned. "He has such lax in his control. I understand that everyone slips; truly, I am not so closed minded that I have forgotten. But to join us here, so close to a city? If they are so keen to enthralled themselves within our diet, surely it would have been more responsible to wait until he gained enough control. I cannot simply take the word of a stranger, that her visions can keep him from slipping. Because the safety of this family is resting upon her, and we must sit idle and accept it...this matter I take issue with."

"You're right." I agreed unabashed. "I do not like the feeling of depending on an ever changing variable. Too much hard graft had been put into this family, for it all to be jeopardised on a simple decision."

She twisted her long hair between her fingers, considering the words. "I do not dislike Jasper and Alice." She finally announced. "I'm being cautious. But my hostility is more towards such an easy acceptance, we had no three days of preparation. There was no time to make plans. How easy they came and...Just started living here. Did we really consider it? I mean really?"

"Perhaps we did not." Was all I could muster.

"I think we have been blinded by the vision of another pair who share our diet, who possess such fantastical gifts, that we completely forgot to consider their countenances." She paused, seemingly struggling with the word, an occurrence so very unlike her. "And, I shall be honest in saying, I miss the way things were."

"So." I began, training my finger along the spines of the leather bound books. "How do we fix it?"

"I don't know." Rosalie replied honestly. "But if we are to trust her visions, then they are here to stay."

"If so, then I think we must demand some questions. They have come here to live with us, and thusly we have every right to request answers of them. But that also works both ways...and a little civility would not go amiss." I looked pointedly in her direction.

"I make no promises." She stated simply.

"And I expect none." I nodded in agreement. "But at least you can say you tried, no one can call you into dispute."

She bobbed her head once to signal the idea would at least be thought about, and that was the best answer I would receive at the present moment. While our conversation began to wind down, the radio began to crackle, the music stuttering, fading in and out. And it was not long until the far off sound of rumbling thunder could be heard.

Along with Emmett's unabashed call for baseball.

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><p><em>AN: Sorry for the slight delay in uploads, I have been on my holiday, and celebrating my birthday. Thanks for all the feedback once again, hope you enjoy the chapter. And please do review. _


	79. Chapter Seventy Eight: Hostem

_A/N: I have been thusly shipped back the city and this is indeed the result of a very long train journey. Luckily forward thinking and saving, and a rather brilliant upgrade meant I didn't have to sit with my laptop crushed under my nose. Trying to stop people looking over my shoulder. Thank you for all the feedback, we are closing in on the five hundred mark. And thanks for the alert, favours. _

_Holidai: I should not think they will be attending school for the moment, after all it is quite a big city. I'm glad to hear you liked a little banter. I was quite keen for Rosalie to express her point across, she's not completely irrational. It makes me so happy to hear that you like my version of her; it's the way I like to imagine her in the book. Like I say she has become one of my favorite characters. And Alice's visions will indeed be brought into question, I don't want a Mary Sue. Thanks so much for the review. _

_46 Husbands Later: Then I hope you like this chapter. Thank you for the review. _

_viola1701e: It can't be easy joining such an established coven, especially when you have a past such as Jasper does. He's not yet found his Southern charm. But I liked the little conversation between Bella and Jasper, just part of the way towards hopefully a better relationship. Thank you for reviewing. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thank you!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the right to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Seventy Eight: Hostem<span>

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It was utterly beastly weather, and for the humans held absolutely no recommendations -save watering a crop or two- other than blowing them about and soaking them to the bone. This storm was no mere trifle, and Alice had indeed been correct in her prediction of perfect baseball weather. The radio had predicted something aghast cumulating out to sea, with a Beauford Number of eleven, and thusly a 'violent storm force warning' had been issued to all those at sea, or those foolishly thinking of even venturing out in the sixty nine knot gusts.

The sky was nothing but pure grey, blocking out any of the sun's rays, and slowly turning to black around the horizon line. It felt more like eve than mid-afternoon, and it was slowly getting darker as the storm moved to make landfall. The low lying clouds not only blocked out the light, but induced the torrential rain that we could see getting ever closer, creating a hazy view in the distance. It's ever approaching presence notified by the clashes of bright lightening and angry rumbles.

Matched like for like by every strike of this baseball game. Mates verses Mates. The females of the coven, against their counterparts.

We may have been down, but having just witnessed Esme shove Emmett to one side, in her approached to the home base, I could safely say I would be goading for a long time to come.

"Shove it." He yelled at us, as we giggled like a pack of hyenas. "It was out."

"Don't be such a baby." Esme called over the cracking of lightening. "I was very much in."

He pouted sourly but said nothing else, impatiently moving from one foot to the other, rubbing his hands in preparation for Alice to step up to the plate. She did so with a flourish, scuffing her soles against the grass, before taking a hitting stance. More confident now her short hair had been pinned back from blowing in her face.

"Bring it." She called, watching Carlisle through narrowed eyes as he prepared to pitch.

It left his fingers with epic speed, curving through the air before making contact with her bat. The crack was almost in line with the storm, and the wooden bat dented with the sheer force. Off it went, cutting through the air with a whoosh, arching high before dropping off towards the tree in the distance. Edward was long gone, taking on after it.

It came back at an almost painful speed, caught beautifully by Jasper who stopped her from progressing any further than third base. She glowered at him.

I took to the plate, twisting my bat in hand and making a plan of attack. "Come on shorty." Emmett goaded loudly, the thunder no competition for his timbre.

In turn I changed sides and decided upon a right hand bat, making Emmett move a little further to his right to counteract.

"Don't trust that right bat." Edward called to Emmett.

I nodded to signal I was ready, and thusly such a force was unleashed. Edward unfortunately knew me all too well, and in a way I'd seen Ralph Buxton bat, I took a step back. Allowing the ball to pass me a little before slamming my bat forward; and luckily making contact. The force made my wrist vibrate and the wood splinter, but was successful in driving the ball almost parallel along the foul line.

I bolted as Emmett's loud curse made ear shot, taking the bases and yelling for Alice to run. As I came towards the home plate, I could see Emmett striding towards me. His face nothing but sheer determination, assuring me there would be no such leeway this time around. We clashed at the base, his solid broad body hitting mine with unparalleled force. But even within the heap we ended up in, it was my hand that was pressed defiantly on the patch of ground.

"In." Alice yelled violently, making sure no one was able to defy her announcement. "That was so very in."

"You alright, Em?" I questioned mockingly, uprighting myself and brushing away the dirt. "That was quite the tumble, shame it was for naught."

"Shove it, shorty." He backed away, insinuating he would keep his eyes on me. "I'll get you, come our next innings."

"Bring it on." I replied.

It was during _said_ innings that the storm finally induced its rain upon us, lashing horizontal precipitation from every direction, as the gale force wind blew vigorously. Storms had been present over the past, week but nothing was as strong as this current one. We had lost the phone lines two days ago, and I was now sure the power would not be far behind. I just hoped we had enough candles to go around.

"Let's go, let's go, let's go." Emmett chanted, shaking the his head back and forth to dispel the water running down his face. "Pitch, pitch, pitch, pitch, pitch."

"Emmett, shut the fuck up." Rosalie yelled from her deep field position.

"Oh, she's angry, she's angry, she's an-" He was interrupted as Alice's pitch hit him straight in the chest.

"Pipe down." She yelled. "I'm trying to pitch."

The ball was returned and she was able to return to throwing for the actual batter; this time Jasper was up first. He may have been a baseball virgin, but that didn't mean he was a poor player, in fact Jasper had a knack for finding fielding weaknesses and exploiting them. His first ball streaked between Rosalie and I, and off she went with a vengeance to retrieve it. Jasper got the third.

Edward decided to strike his straight over my head, and well out of reach of my jump. I had the last laugh because I caught it, as it came for the drop. He had to sit out.

By the time Emmett hit the plate by whole body was completely soaked, clothes hanging off, and my hair hung limp, plastered to my scalp, as rivets of rain streamed down my face. Clinging so definitely to my eye lashes, and accumulating in my Cupid's bow. But regardless of how terrible we all looked; and very ill was the sight indeed, no one moaned about the weather. For the terrible clashes of lightening, the rumbles of thunder, gale like wind, and torrential rain, was nothing but an absolute thrill. The field turned to mud, and running turned into sliding. Until are boots were unrecognisable, and figures covered in splattering's of mud.

It was washed away, only to be replaced as the next batting and fielding pursuit began. And for once, maybe the first time, we all seemed to get on. There was no real fighting, just petty sporting banter. We were all looking to win, had the same goal in our teams. Something as simple as a mere baseball game had given us the first insight into how this new family could possibly work.

It couldn't fix everything, but it was a start.

"Right." Emmett yelled over the rain, wiping the water from his eyes as he took his overzealous stance. "Prepare yourselves; this is going to be a big'un."

He told no lie. For his swing was something monstrous, right back and double handed. It made contact with an almighty shot, followed by his bellow, and naturally the sound of the bat breaking in two. I watched it stream way above me, whistling through the air, flying onwards and onwards, passing the field line and way off into the forest.

"Hooome run." Emmett yelled.

"Fucks sake!" I growled, sprinting as quickly as I could possibly muster on the saturated ground. I met the forest line just as the storm seemed to pass overhead. It was almost completely dark within the trees, the thick summer canopy keeping out the last of the light, while the wind howled violently through the branches. The soft ground kept giving way underfoot, and several times I had to regain a degree of balance. My rubber boots were covered in mud and all degree of leaf litter, as I clambered over shrubs, and had to constantly dodge the shrubbery. All the while still trying to gage where the damn thing had fallen

I found it in the most impossible place.

Being toyed idly, within the long spindly fingers of Aro of the Volturi.

Around him, wearing cloaks the colour of jet, were what I could only presume was a good half of his guard members. Hoods up and standing eerily behind with absolute stoic stances, unregistering alabaster faces, and crimson eyes.

I faulted to a wobbly stop, feet sliding along the slick ground. Already the great foreboding panic rose in my chest, swelling and fluttering vigorously. The unbelievability of this situation was paramount. I could not possibly understand why they would be within our territory; so far from the warm swells of Volterra city. So many of them, two of the leaders, a large sum of their guard, all venturing over to the America's. Something was most definitely amiss. They did not venture far afield unless someone, or multiple people, had broken a law.

"Isabella, as I live and breathe." Aro began, a seemingly delightful countenance, as if he were greeting an old friend. But he was no friend of mine. "What an utter coincidence."

"It has indeed been a while." I replied, inducing my best pleasant smile upon him. Trying not to crouch into any sort of attack, the odds were nowhere near favouring me. I would be an utter fool to even make an attempt to retaliate.

"Aro, we need to move on." The man I knew to be Caius hissed. His frantic cloudy eyes kept looking behind me, searching for something he did not wish to find. If I had not been on edge before, I felt it keenly now.

"Indeed, indeed." Aro placated with a dismissive hand. "I must sincerely apologise, Isabella. For in my haste it seems I have told you a rather little white lie."

"Oh." I replied, eyeing up two broad males as they seem to gravitate towards me. "And what lie would that be." If I could just keep this conversation going, then I was quite sure the others would seek me out. Carlisle could sort this, he was far better with diplomatic words than I could ever hope to be. I just had to wait this out, they would realise I had been gone too long; come, and this bizarre situation could all be sorted.

"This was not so much a coincidence...more a delightfully premeditated catch-up. But we honestly did not expect to see you so soon." He threw the baseball up and caught it within his palm. "You see my dear; we need to have a little...talk. Nothing too strenuous, just a tête-à-tête between friendly acquaintances."

It was with sudden and frightful poise I was accosted. The two males grabbed for me with precise synchronisation, twisting my arms behind my back, rendering me a good deal immobile. "Unhand me." I yelled to them. "I have agreed to talk, I am no savage…On what merit do you have to seize me? " Demanding to Aro.

There was no response, as Aro blatantly ignored my violent proclamations, gliding onwards the baseball still in hand. "I demand to know." I growled again.

But other than a cruel sneer from one of the females, and a heavy force jostling my head into a bow, no answer came my way. Physically there was nothing that could render me away from such brutal enthrallment, yet at this point sheer desperation overcame me, and I filled my lungs with air. Hoping to instil some kind of primal shriek, if not for freedom, then to hopefully alert the others.

"I wouldn't do that." Alec growled into my ear, pulling my shoulders back and thusly my bowed head upwards. I could only swallow my scream, as I watched that notorious haze crawl along the ground. Drifting past us and back in the direction of the baseball field. "Your coven are not quite as fortunate as you, are they?"

"You fucking bastard." I spat at him, my chest heaving with a flourish of utter panic. "I'll kill you, if you dare hurt them." But it was such an empty threat, I could not outfight them, I could only pitifully allow them to hold me down. Rendered utterly powerless.

Into the night we seemed to melt. The storm was the perfect back setting; I doubted they would have heard my scream anyways, and the sheer force of the rain had already begun to dilute the tracks the moment they were laid. I was dragged along with them, head always bowed, with the male witch twin and the broad Felix, always accosting me when I faltered.

Constantly my mind failed to understand what was occurring; surely such a thing was impossible? I had just been ripped away from my family; I had been kidnapped by the so named legislators of our kind. By a coven I openly mocked, by a coven whose portraits currently hung in an unused house the other side of the country. Who we openly obeyed regardless to the mockery, and Carlisle considered allies should hardship fall upon us. A coven of firm, but fair vampires, who listened to the queries of others. And upheld the laws to protect us.

Surely this could not be true? Surely this was all a mere mistake?

But the truth was, each moment I deliberated I was getting further away from my family. It was so dark, such dirty weather, I had no idea to the direction in which we were heading. Just constantly running, being dragged along. This was not the life I led anymore, I was domesticated, an animal drinker. Keeping far from trouble. Living in a house. Married. Edward couldn't function without me, who would make sure he hung his clothes. I needed him to put up my shelves, and get things that were too high for me to reach.

Being physically so far away...already so keenly felt. I just wanted to be back within the throngs of my coven, back to being a member and not so openly individual. It felt so odd, so hollow. We were always together. Now I was going someplace I didn't know, without him, without them, and I didn't like it. Not one bit.

"Why?" I managed to choke out a question to anyone who might have listened. "What right have you to take me from my coven? We are rational beings, not savages."

No one answered my pleas.

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><p><em>AN: A little shorter than usual, but indeed the introduction to something that has been simmering for a while now. Thanks for reading hope you enjoyed. And please do leave some feedback, love to hear what you think. _


	80. Chapter Seventy Nine: Invitus

_A/N: Even though I was quite sure how I wanted this to go, actually writing it down was such a task. It doesn't help that I'm at Uni, far too many distractions. Thanks for all the great feedback from the last chapter, I had to keep going back and reading them, making myself sit down and write. So much appreciated. And, never forgetting, all those who are still continuing to place this story on alerts/favours etc.. Sometimes I can't quite believe people are willing to slog through this story still…. it's not exactly a light read. But alas thanks all so much. _

_viola1701e: All shall become clear. And indeed Aro is kind of creepy. I know he should have a Greek/Italian accent, but every time I picture him it's just Michael Sheen and his Welsh accent. Normally I have my own image of the characters (not overly keen on the actors) but damn Michael Sheen and his overly creepy Aro portrayal. On a whole other tangent, it would be interesting to write the family's point of view, I can just about wonder the chaos that would unfold…maybe I should add this to my list of ever growing one-shots? Thanks so much for the review. _

_silverhawk88: Oh, thank you so much! I have never actually played baseball, only rounder's so I'm glad it was believable (sadly I watched so YouTube videos, to get a gage on the game.) The Volturi certainly have a knack for turning up and ruining all the fun. _

_emily volturi: I'm so glad you liked it, while we won't see their reactions first hand, their feelings will be portrayed later on. (Or maybe a one-shot of their POV?) Thanks for the review._

_Holidai: It's all conspiring against poor Bella. Good to know you liked the game, I'm all for a little competitiveness. I'm lax to say anything on the reunion front, but all shall be relieved. Thanks so much for the review, hope I haven't kept you waiting too long. _

_46 Husbands: Thanks for reviewing, hopefully you haven't been waiting too long. _

_BadassEri90: I am so glad to hear you say that, I'm always a little conscious of being predictable. And every time you leave me a review it is such a muse to get myself into gear, leave my procrastination behind. Thanks so much for the kind words, and I really hope I've not been too cruel and kept you waiting for long_

_Matthias Stormcrow: Well some parts of this slowing rising under-plot shall be revealed within the chapter, thanks for the review. _

_CullenBoy123: The Volturi are just incredibly well practiced at interrupting good times, and happy family events. Their motivations will become clear. Thanks for reviewing. _

_reader 346: All shall become relatively more clear, they have their reasons. I feel especially bad for Edward and the Cullen's, poor Bella disappeared without trace. Thanks for the review._

_Guest: Sweetie, this story is on-going, which means it has to end so I can continue to update…otherwise it would be set as complete. Sorry that's such a 'buzz kill' for you, but maybe you should filter for complete stories? Thanks for reviewing anyhow. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Seventy Nine: Invitus<span>

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It was a seemingly never ending voyage, running onwards with a destination that I was ignorant too. And now the darkness was no longer an association of the storm that we had passed through, but instead the sun had been swallowed up by the horizon. And it was only the light from a small waning moon that gave any indication to the surroundings in the nearly impenetrable black.

Not that any inclination was of help, I had no idea to our current location. But through a deductive guess, would presume we were heading south or southeasterly, and were most probably now out of Oregon. The surroundings were different, the ground rockier, more sandy, and the accumulation of trees seemed to be mostly conifer. I guessed either California or Nevada.

Eventually when enough time had passed they allowed me to run without the force of hand, but all the time I was herded along like an animal. Always three behind me, pushing onwards and making sure I went in the direction they wanted. Aro and Caius never once made contact with me, never once offered any explanation, instead they ran quite far ahead. It was only the bellowing of their cloaks that was recognisable in the distance, they too surrounded by an entourage. But it was them who were dictating and presiding over these abhorrent turn of events, ghosting me away by such violent manners.

It made my mind run with rampant dues, trying to twist and puzzle together the occurrence. A _talk_ they had said. But we had spoken before, politely, respectfully within my house. This could not have been in a more opposing manner.

Logically, I had nothing else to tempt the Volturi with. My nonplussed gift was only beneficial to myself, I may have been adept within my fighting style, but I was sure there were those who were far better. Once I had rejected an invitation to join, and such an answer was accepted and never pushed again. Therefore I could only thusly presume it was indeed solely information based...and seeing as I possessed nothing of actual interest, it must have been in relation to Horace.

The same topic as last time.

But what of Horace? He may have been my sire, but other than those far fetched stories previous grander as part of Benito's great army, I knew nothing of him. We had discussed all this previously, I had indulged Aro to everything I could possibly divulge. So what now? I failed to justify, or come to any understanding as to why I was being taken away from my coven. For what kind of information was unable to be discussed in front of, or including, my family? I shared everything with them, we lived with no secrets.

A precaution, perhaps? But we had passed the point of having a quiet discussion alone, this had become absolutely nonsensical. To treat me like some common savage, deny me any such explanations as to why. I had always lived by the rules of the Volturi, upheld and enforced the rules upon others. And for what reason? To have those same values and decency denied to me. It was hypocrisy and false.

How dare they make my family worry, take me without so much as a second thought to those I am leaving back home.

Nothing made sense, and that meant a great deal of patience would be required while I waited for answers. I did not possess leaps and bounds of the stuff.

For the hundreds of miles in which we had overcome, the dynamic never changed. A perfectly organised run, never out of place regardless of the terrain, and obviously well practiced. Eventually when the thick forest gave way to something gaunter, there came a view from the rocky mount we were running along. To my right, and far off toward the horizon, was a mirage of bright lights. A great cluster of a city in the pitch black. From the direction we were heading, a presumed distance I believed we had travelled, and from the sheer size of the city in the distance, I came to the conclusion this was either Sacramento or San Francisco. But with no reference point my guess was merely that.

I possess no watch, and had little skill when it came to plotting the course of the moon, but it must have been the early hours of the morning.

There was no dispute they would have realised I was missing now. I hoped most ardently a trail had been picked up, or there was some clue as to it being the Volturi. But I didn't hold out much hope, the Volturi did not make idle mistakes. But what would they think had happened to me? I hated to even consider that they…could come to the conclusion that I had met my demise.

My mind immediately affirmed in the negative, they would know I was still alive. Somehow they would know, maybe, if I were lucky, Alice's visions would decide I was important enough to induce my fate to the family. Clearly me being accosted by the Volturi had not been important enough, whether it be a lack of decision, or the actual event posing no danger to Alice, I could not help but feel a little aggravated, or hysterical. A vision of the stormy weather she had, but no such hint towards the factor of me being kidnapped.

Eventually that apparent indispensable occurance came to a head. It was slowly approaching dawn, towards the western sky the black had begun to turn a light blue. And while the skyline began to burn with a dusty orange, things began to slow. Once again my arms we taken ahold of, being twisted carelessly behind my back. But upright I remained this time.

"There really is no need." I muttered towards my captor. "I'm not foolish to think I can run."

"Just a precaution." Felix replied, but his great bulking arms only seemed to get tighter against my arms.

"It is unneeded." I told him bluntly. "You seem to have mistaken me for a barbarian."

He made no response, but the ranks came closer and for the first time it seemed that was an actual destination in mind. Hidden away from any kind of civilisation, and past the foothills of some untended fruit orchards, we came across a strange sight. Within the flat land of the valley, and having clearly been abandoned some long while ago, was an old colonial styled plantation. The main house was surrounded by a mirage of smaller buildings, huts and outbuildings. Some standing, others in a derelict condition.

It would seem the Volturi had taken up another property of occupation, although this lacked the augustness of Volterra Castle.

As we made an approached down the dirt track; and for the first time in a seemingly preposterous number of hours, Aro once again made his address to me. "Come, come." He beckoned me forward with a lax hand. "A grand tour for you."

Felix released my arms once he procured a nod from his master, but still his presence behind me did not slack.

I unwillingly came forward, passing by the rest of this limited guard and doing my best to refrain from making eye contact with them. As I approached he extended his hand toward me, palm facing upwards, fingers ever so slightly curled. Holding back my utmost reluctance, I placed my own upon his. And in an almost predictable instance, there came a strange notion, a pulsing and probing within my head.

While not unpleasant, it was unwelcome, and my mind seemed keen to repel the intrusion. Placing up a barricade, forcing him away from my intimate thoughts.

"Always so very impressive." Aro smiled that artfully indeterminable smile, keeping his hand on mine as he guided us continuously along the track. "I have always had great mind to think you're coven has such talents in their midst." He replied off handily, waving away a timid looking guard member from his immediate side. "And therefore you must forgive us most vehemently for spiriting you away."

"I'm afraid I don't understand." I told him, struggling to keep my palm against his. "Could this _talk_ not have occurred back in Oregon?"

He merely looked on ahead as we seemed to make slow progress towards the main building, and frustratingly did not immediately reply. I contemplated interjecting something else, thinking of possible ways to phrase my accusations to cause least offense.

"This matter, in which we need to discuss, is -for the moment- of the utmost importance. And subsequently it must remain as ambiguous as possible to most." He replied vaguely. "That is not to say I do not consider the Cullen coven my dearest allies…but the matter is esoteric, and I should like to keep it between those who are concerned for the moment."

"Then I must question, how am I concerned with this…matter?" I responded cautiously, growing all the more uncomfortable as we entered the boundary line of the compound. The sheer number of vampire tracks was overwhelming, and it seemed this was indeed the dwelling of the other bountiful horde of guard members. Subsequently the stench of human blood was almost palatable, and it hung lucidly in the warm humidity. The others seemed not to notice.

"Let's go on inside, this is no place to speak of such delicate matters." Aro decided.

The entourage that had followed so faithfully throughout the entire journey, now peeled away, heading out towards the buildings. And I –still within Aro's grasp- was unwillingly shepherded into the main manor house, Caius so close behind.

The interior had little to recommend itself, while the architecture looked relatively sound; years of neglect had taken their toll upon the once fanciful decorations. There were some furniture pieces littered around, nothing of great worth, it simply looked like the previous owner had just upped and left.

From the grand hall we made left, and entered into what I could only presume was a reception room. While once a beautifully prosperous room for entertainment, it now looked a sorry state, shuttered up windows, yellowing wall print, and a deal of black mould festering along the cornicing.

"Look, look." Aro cried delightfully to those other vampires within the room. "Look who has come to visit us." Other than a mild mannered look thrown in my direction, the three persons within the room were nonplussed, or completely expected my appearance. But it did not deter Aro from his on-going enthusiasms.

Next to the barren hearth, and within a high backed chair, sat the last remaining leader I had yet to physically meet. And from all the accounts I had heeded, the gaunt and passive look he bore was a seemingly distinctive feature of his being.

The other two vampires were relatively unknown to me, one male, and one female.

She was tall, uncommonly so, with willowy limbs. Her hair hung about her blades almost pin straight, and a colour most akin to raven. While I should not call her pretty or delicate, her features were strong and handsome.

He in turn, was relatively average in stature, but what he lacked in lofty height, he made up with a broad torso and thickly built limbs. His features were incredibly sharp, giving him an overall look of calculation. It was he who displayed the most interest in me. Cocking his head to one side, and watching as Aro guided me towards a worn chaise.

I was not given the option to stand, or exert any such independent decision on my own behalf, but had to sit where I was placed. And Aro sat next to me.

We two, facing the others.

I hid the barely suppressible apprehension and fear with an exercised notion of impassiveness, schooling my features into a blank expression of nothingness. And could only put this whole current situation into something of dark humour, placing this very moment at the top of my list of peculiar happens within my life. And very much felt as lost as Alice within Wonderland; and due to Aro and his on-going riddles I could only dupe him into character.

He made the round of introductions, naming his two brother leaders first; although it was completely unneeded.

"And of course Demetri, and Charmion." He replied lastly, as if they were a mere afterthought.

So he had posted his most meaningful guard members within the room, a tracker; who most considered the best within our kind, and the woman who held this coven together through sheer manipulation. It was not looking very good for me.

"We have been looking forward to your visit, very much so." Aro told me, patting my hand like I was a child. "But I bet you are so keen to know why you are here?"

"Interested." I replied stoically. "I am…rather puzzled by so much…unexpected attention."

"Then you will answer the questions." Caius announced, moving around Marcus's fixed placement, to consider me with a withering stare of contempt.

"Now, now, Caius. There is no need to catechize her." Aro defended me. "She is not of the usual uncouth, degenerative, beings we come against. Isabella is a Cullen, and that makes her one of our allies." He patted my hand once again. "I'm sure she; as we would be, most willing to aid us in this little disagreement we find ourselves in."

Caius merely snorted a reply.

"You must forgive my dear brother." Aro spoke at me. "We are all a little on edge with things…being as they are."

I was so utterly and completely lost, there was clearly something I was not up-to-date with. So out of touch with the vampire world. "And how is that?" Came my strained question, as I looked between the occupancy.

"We are experiencing a little upset." Aro replied.

"That is putting it extremely mildly." Caius commented with barely concealed disgust at Aro's wording.

"I'm sure as a member of Carlisle's coven, you are well aware of the…disagreement we have concerning the likes of the Romanian coven?"

"I am aware." I confirmed. Doing well to overlook the light brush of the word _disagreement_, they had massacred almost the entirety of the Romanian coven, bar the likes of Vladimir and Stefan.

"You see after that unfortunate situation we like to make sure we keep a close watch upon them, save another disagreement, you understand?"

I nodded.

"Unfortunately, the mortals are so very fickle when it comes to politics, a treaty here, a treaty there, and low and behold the whole of the human world if embroiled in such a scuffle. Now we have no care for human brawls, as you can imagine we have lived through so many."

"I can but imagine." I nodded again.

"Indeed, and usually we remain unbothered and unconcerned with them. But you see, my dear, the last two altercations had such an effect upon Europe that moving about became most difficult for us."

I assumed he was speaking of the two world wars.

"And especially the last, why those defence lines came almost upon Volterra." His disbelieve was almost humorous. "You see with such mass movement of the mortals, poor Demetri could not keep up with the likes of the Romanians. And they slipped away from our diligent watch."

Poor Demetri looked a great deal bothered by this announcement, Aro having just divulged his gifts weakness to a complete stranger. But wisely, he said nothing, and the great leader continued with his tale of riddles; which had yet to get to a point that included my necessary involvement.

"After the humans had sorted out their altercations, and things once again began to settle, we decided to…visit our lost Români acquaintances. And yet not a single trace of them could be found. They had completely vanished." He waved his hands about to further emphasize his point. "Now, after the difficulties of losing them, Demetri managed to redeem himself and track the pair down."

Said man mere nodded lightly in confirmation.

"Tell her, tell her where they were." Aro demanded of him.

"North America." Demetri relented easily.

"Oh, but not just any part of the North America's, they were eventually known to be dwelling in Mexico." Aro added, turning his body to face me almost completely. "And this, my dear, it is where you have such links with our tale, for it seems both Vladimir an Stefan are rather successfully co-existing with an old associate of yours…you do recall Percival?"

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><p><em>AN: Oh I'm so very glad to have this done. Once again thanks for your patience, hope I haven't been too cruel with the update. Please leave some feedback, would love to hear what you think. _


	81. Chapter Eighty: Mens mentis

_A/N: Hey all, look we have reached the eighties! And this chapter is being uploaded via some very dodgy Wifi, because, yet again, no one in my house has decided to invest in a repeater. So that's like six laptops, plus tablets, and phones all working on a really old hub. It's not looking good for the poor thing. _

_Now I know it has been a super long time since many of you have come across Percival, so if you wanted to refresh yourselves he is present in: _

_Chapter Two: Veni, Vidi, Vici_

_Chapter Fifteen: Comes Comitis_

_Chapter Sixteen: Delirare_

_Those chapters seem like such a long while ago, so I hope this goes a little way to helping. Anyway thanks all for the feedback on the last chapter._

_Holidai: Thanks for the review, I hope the chapters above help in refreshing. It has indeed been a long while since those ones were published. Bella is being her usual no nonsense self, but the Volturi are just as crafty in their ways._

_viola1701a: Yeah I do have such a love for creepy Aro, long may he continue to survive. And all shall become clear as to why they have taken her. I can imagine he is at his wits ends, and most probably will not like having Jasper messing with his emotions. Alice and her visions will certainly be called into play, unlike the books I liked to think her visions are not all seeing. Thanks for the review._

_leahmarie59: Indeed, I had to have them back at some point. I'm glad you like my Bella, I have grown so attached to her and her ways. Things shall become a little clearer once again. Ooh second year of sixth form, I bet they are already talking to you about exams, UCAS, and Uni. That was such a horrid year. Sorry about the cliffy, and thanks for reviewing. _

_46 Husbands Later: Yes, Percy is making a comeback. It has been a while since we have come across him, and his dealings shall be revealed. Thank you for the review. _

_Dazzle me in purple: Oh thank you so much, I'm happy to know you didn't expect it, I didn't wish for it to become predictable. Thank you for reviewing, hope you enjoy this one. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: You shall soon find out, thanks for another review._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Eighty: Mens mentis<span>

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"I am familiar with such a man." I replied prudently, away from his hold my fingers curled themselves into the hem of my shirt. "But it has been nearly twenty years since I last saw him, and he was in exceedingly poor spirits at that time."

"Poor?" Aro questioned with a deal of interest.

I shifted uncomfortably, and made an attempt to hold resolve firmly. "Indeed, from what I gathered, the army he charged had been attacked my Maria. Every member –bar Percival, and two others- had been destroyed. He ran north and thusly came across myself in Cleveland."

Both Aro and Caius shared a look.

"And throughout this conversation, his disposition…?" Caius pushed for an answer, stiffly lording his height across the room, his cloudy eyes boring upon my person.

"I have known of Percival since his awakening, he is a strong and assertive militant character, and was very much of a sound mind." I began. "However, it was upon the meeting in Cleveland that I noted his disposition had altered."

"And with such altered _dispositions_, any mentions of future prospects?" Inquired the blonde vampire once again.

The deeper this conversation progressed, the more and more I began to realise just how far Percival had gotten himself into trouble. And holding silent now would do nothing on my future prospects of finding my way back home. "At first he had no real, definitive plans, and seeing as I was alone at the time was keen for him to move from the area. But as we spoke of his future prospects, the conversation took a turn to your meeting with him."

"Yes, indeed." Aro drawled. "The numbers with him were small and very much insignificant at the time."

"And our _mercy _upon him, our feverish fault." Caius bit, tapping his fist against the palm of his hand in such festering regret. "The same mistakes shall not be repeated." He declared with vehement hostility.

The silence that followed was a sure sign the Volturi were done with the bouts of mercy, and I could not help but suppose these turn of events had been pressing heavily upon their beings. Just what had Percy done?

"What of his presence of mind?" It was Marcus who this time spoke, his soft timbre so different from his brothers.

"His countenance changed." I address him. "Something we discussed about your coven, sent him into a restless antsy manner. He began to ramble, pacing across the floor, and saying how we needed a plan-"

"A _plan_?" Caius interrogated. "What sort of _plan_?"

"I wasn't sure at first, but I made it clear I wanted no part in anything. Then he suddenly announced he wanted to altercate with yourselves." I told them quite bluntly.

"Did he?" Aro questioned mostly to himself, nodding his head as he contemplated the words I stated. "Did he, really?"

"And you did not think to stop him?" Caius accused, painting me with an arresting smile. "Or inform us of these developments?"

"Indeed, I considered it, but I was a single being alone in a suburban neighbourhood. The risk was too great." I defended curtly. "He may have been a good leader, but he did not possess the kind of skills needed to build a successful army. And seeing as he was clearly becoming deranged, I expected him to meet his demise quite early on."

"You _presumed_." He stated. "You _presumed_ he would not be capable of building an army."

"Caius, please-" Aro tried to come to the defence again.

"Yes, yes I did." I interrupted, telling him quite plainly. Not allowing him to corner me with his arraignments. "There was no way for me to know the likes of the Romanian's would come to his aid."

"Of course, there is no fault. For we would have seen no threat even if you had of told us." Aro placated, seeming awfully keen to keep me onside. "But I am saddened to report, that his threat has become very much a reality. Indeed, I too am very doubtful he had the skill to build an army of any great threat to us. However the unseen circumstances with the Romanian's…has put a proverbial dent into the works. So in reality it is very much shared…accountability."

Shared accountability? I suppose…yes indeed there was slight liability on both sides. In some way I'm sure I could have seen how assured, and determined he was, and they should have dealt with the Romanian's in a far better manner.

"For you to have _sired_ such a vampire…I'm sure killing him was not an easy thing to consider." Aro stated cheerlessly. "For I know the feeling well, you cannot help but feel partly responsible for their existence."

"I-I suppose in part…I did not wish to end his life." I stated aimlessly, feeling a strange bout of unrest settle on me. I was, in turn, guilty of creating vampires through recruitment, bringing mortals into this realm. And Percival was the very last of my creations to still be amongst the living…maybe in part I wanted his life to be a success.

"Thusly, this is why we needed to talk to you, Isabella." Aro said. "You are such a valued ally of the Volturi, and of course we know a steadfast keeper of the laws. So I have come to you with a request."

"Oh, a request?" I mirrored.

"Yes, seeing as we are all enthralled within this…unfortunate event, it would be most beneficial for us to join forces, call forth our alliance to rid ourselves of a common enemy."

I found, most alarmingly, I could not disagree with such a well place notion, it strangely made sense. I could rid myself of this burden; because that is what this whole fiasco felt like, but do it in such a manner as to not place myself within a great deal of danger. Therefore how could I possibly disagree?

"Indeed, I think it would be extremely favourable." I nodded in agreement. "But how does this plan include myself?"

Aro looked a good deal gladdened by my affirmation, almost relieved. "Excellent." He declared. "But do not fret, my dear, you too shall play your part. We shan't leave you from all…the justice we will instil. You are a key asset in our vocation."

"How so?" I questioned, raking my fingers through the tangles of my hair in almost hypnotic fashion. "I'm afraid you will find me lacking in any great skills."

"No, no." Aro waved away the very notion. "Why I haven't come across a prospective talent so promising since we found Jane and Alec. Your shield is just at the cusp of its capabilities. And if we…nurture it in the correct manner, why there is no telling how brilliant it could be."

"Really?" I wondered rhetorically, completely entranced within the idea.

"Very much so, we as a coven, rely very much upon our physical strength, and it is thusly where we excel. However, just think what would happen if we were to come against such talents as Jane and Alec, why we would be so very vulnerable. Now you…you have such an impenetrable shield around yourself, never allowing such mental intrusions. Just imagine if you could extend such a gift to others. No worry should we ever face upon meeting our opponents."

"I-I have never really considered the possibility." I announced vaguely, caught within the serendipity of such a thought. If what he stated was really true, then I could do my bit to be an adept ally.

"And just think, we can protect you from physical harm, and you in turn protect us from anything mental variety. We would be unstoppable against… our _joint_ little problem." He replied.

"That seems very fair." I nodded.

"Excellent, I am glad we are all in such accordance." Aro declared, lifting his palms to the ceiling, as if was indeed a blessed turn of events. "Now amongst my midst, I have someone with a shield of sorts. I am thinking that she may be of some use to you."

"Go fetch her." Caius demanded towards the two silent persons behind him. But it was Demitri who departed from the room, and within mere seconds he returned, followed tentatively by the timid looking vampire from our journey here.

The black cloak she adorned look far too big for her frame, and the folds of fabric around the hood seem to encapsulate her shoulders, drowning in the jet velvet. But straight to Aro's side she walked, her steps seemed very calculated and precise, she was wary of me. In a well practiced routine she paused directly at her master's side, deliberating with the poise of her hands, before clasping them demurely.

"Renata will do her best to aid you." Aro told me, waving his hand in her general direction save making any real formal introduction. "And of course, those around you are at your disposal."

Renata only nodded a feeble response.

We –being she, Demitri, and I- departed from the room; left those four crumbling walls behind and the strange occupancy. And it seemed for the very first moment since we had begun this strange conversation, I was able to breathe without the oppression of those three leaders. I could finally sort out my emotions, and wonder just what I had agreed to do.

Surely I was out of my mind; the long journey had made my cognitive processes lethargic. I needed more than anything to go home, to just reunite with my coven, being an ally just didn't….it wasn't my priority. My priority was going home, going home to my coven.

There were guard members at every turn as we swept through the compound, their dark coloured cloaks everywhere I looked, floating and bellowing in the wind. Pale faces and crimson eyes, watched us from the windows of the other buildings, peeking through broken glass, considering and debating. Never in all my existence had I felt so uttered enclosed, so outnumbered, and discomposed. There was nothing, absolutely nothing I could do. I was utterly powerless against such a force. Completely within their mercy, and now playing a game in which they made the rules.

I was just another pawn, having already it seems been easily manipulated; either by them, or a gift I was not immune too. And that was far more frightening than any physical pain.

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><p>Other than delivering instructions, no one spoke of anything else; they limited their interactions with me to bare necessities. I requested, first and foremost, that I was in need of a hunt. Anything to place a little space between myself and them.<p>

Permission was granted for me to do so, but that in turn came with the presence of three guard members. Once again I was induced to endure Felix, Demitri, and Charmion, as they accompanied me off into the wilderness. A silent entourage who followed me around.

I was wary of her especially, even more so than before, with her gift. Eleazar had told me she was capable of manipulating bonds. Although, I hoped, myself immune from anything that involved thought processes, it seemed; from experience with Jasper, I was susceptible to emotional control. Thusly I needed to keep up my guard around her most of all. Unlike Jasper, she had more than enough time to perfect her skills, and there was little doubt she was capable of beguiling me without my knowledge.

Hunting would take away any distractions from blood lust, and set my mind onto the straight and narrow. _At least, that's what I told myself. _

"This is a long process." Felix announced, as I finished another small kill. "Very drawn out."

"It would not be so, if there were something adept to hunt." I replied plainly. "Why do you think we refrain from living this far south? It's like hunting sick humans, nothing of great substance to be had."

"Would it not, therefore, be easier to simply feed naturally?" Charmion responded vaguely, her features so hard to distinguish.

"Most probably." I told her. "But I don't drink from mortals."

"Pity." She said airily, fingers playing idly with the cloak chain about her neck.

I did not reply to her words, but kept up my reserved guard, continuing to hunt the poor, and limited stock around these parts. They too did not make hunting an easy process, always standing within the way, or not correctly judging the wind directions adeptly. Nevertheless I manage to gorge myself on deer blood, drinking enough to make myself feel physically full. I was meticulously neat in my feedings, making sure nothing splattered upon my clothing; it looked like was going to be in the same outfit for quite a while.

We did not follow the same trail back to the compound, but instead fell down through the overgrown orchards. Passing along the horde of ripe fruits on the trees, and over the rotten apples strewn across the ground.

By the time we had reached the cluster of wooden buildings it was a little past midday, and the temperature had begun to soar into something archaic of the south. The Cicada buzzed loudly in the long grasses, and flew in erratic circles in the nearly cloudless sky. While it seemed most of the guard kept to the shadow of their indoor dwellings, a handful of grey cloaks seemed to hover around. Talking silently amongst themselves, lips moving, and eyes casting us with glances as we passed by.

Away from the masses of eyes, I re-joined the likes of Renata; hiding away under the protection of the old Angel Oak trees. She came forward upon the departure of Demitri and Felix, and seemingly tolerated Charmion watching on from a safe distance.

"Aro says I am to help you." She began with a soft lilt, pulling lightly at her heavy cloak as it wrapped around her skirt.

"So it would seem." I replied in a particularly maladroit way, more attention directed at the manipulative vampire following behind.

"I cannot recommend myself to be any great teacher." Was her indeterminate response.

"And I, no astute student."

"Then, we find ourselves at an impasse."

We continued to walk onwards, being alternately bombarded with both shadow and sun bursts from the tree canopy. How idyllically sicken the whole thing was. For the more we walked, and the more the silence lingered, the more I became impatient. But thusly I began to question whether this indeed was _my_ impatient, or perhaps a mere by-product of my _susceptibilities_. For why was I impatience? In order to get back to my family? Or maybe she had bewitched me, and this _impatience_ was towards this alliance I had so blindly fallen into. Was I eager to please the Volturi leaders?

She was still some twenty paces behind; I could barely control my demeanour.

Defiantly I told myself no. This was _my _impatience. A hastiness to return to the ones I loved. And these emotions I felt were mine, they were real.

"You seem perturbed?" Renata accounted aloud, and with a subtle flick of her fingers Charmion stopped her following, and hung back into the grove.

"I am well." I lied, standing a little taller and recovering my slight loss of mien.

"Excellent." She replied. "I find it easier to succeed when you are _well_. A clear mind can make all the difference when tasks need to be accomplished. Even more so when _said_ tasks require the utmost concentration."

"And you think I can accomplish what Aro has stated, through mere concentration?" I questioned, curling the ends of my hair around my index finger.

Her shoulders lifted in the tiniest insinuation of a shrug. "I do not know." She drawled. "We are similar, in that our gifts are there to protect. But what may work for me, may not for you."

"So how can I identify my way?" I asked mostly to myself. "It sounds like something one comes across in the heat of the moment."

"Indeed." Renata nodded her head. "I am _bound_ to those I serve, and therefore my loyalties know of no boundaries. When you have such a close relationship with others, protecting them becomes a priority, and thusly my desire fluxes strongly through my shield. Have those you are bound to ever been threatened by an intrusive mental threat?"

"No." I responded.

"Then it is quite understandable, that the potential of your gift has never extended passed simply protected yourself. I am then, quite convinced that had such a thing occurred, we would not be having this conversation."

"I understand." I told her. "But this is where I must find a fault within this situation; I am bound to my coven. To my family and my mate. And I hope, most ardently, that should we ever find ourselves on the receiving end of a threat, that I should be able to protect them. But I am not bound to this coven, how can I be of any use?"

We stopped stoic, and for the first time she looked straight at me. "You seemed perturbed." She repeated once again, before casting a look back towards the vampire we had left behind. And it seemed on cue, Charmion stepped back into our line of sight, insinuating herself into this conversation. "Emotions can be just as strong." Renata told me calmly. "They can even influence our thoughts, that is, if we allow them to."

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><p><em>AN: Wow this was a really hard chapter to write, I hope this makes sense and goes a little way to explaining what on earth the Volturi are doing. Once again thanks for the reviews for the last chapter, really great feedback. And hello and welcome to all those who are still putting this chapter on alerts/favouring. _

_Please read and review. _


	82. Chapter Eighty One: Doctrina

_A/N: Hey all, sorry for taking a little longer this week. I shan't be making an excuse because Uni is unfortunately my life, and thusly kind of important. I hope everyone else is having luck with their first weeks of school, college, or other kinds of education. _

_So an absolute insane issue in which I cannot help but announce loudly, we are merely five reviews away from reaching…five freaking hundred reviews….what do I do? Undoubtedly some kind of yell of excitement, and I'm sure an embarrassing dance shall occur. But as usual a big thanks to all those who reviewed the last chapter, I kept reading through them and telling myself to sit the hell down and type this chapter. So much obliged. Also welcome to anyone who has just joined…or caught up with the latest update. _

_Holidai: I'm going to reply in the negative, although Charmion can bond Bella to the Volturi, I'm under the pretense she cannot overrule a mating bond, or strong preexisting bond. Anything below her ability could become nulled, but I think the Cullen bond is pretty damn strong. Thanks for reviewing._

_viola1701e: I think Aro should be classed under the psychiatric term of 'compulsive hoarder,' he likes to collect gifted vampires. Makes then do his bidding, while never actually getting into a fight. Deceptively brilliant, I think that is the key to his success. Thanks for the feedback. _

_MJElliot: I was excited to see your name pop up in my email box, and thank you so much for all the lovely comments. It makes me unbelievably happy to know you like Alice and Jasper, they are actually the hardest characters to write. Alice's freaking power is difficult to get to grips with. And good to know you like my Bella. I had to Google the term Români, so it looks like the research is paying off. And naturally the Volturi had to make their triumphant return. But I was keen to make sure they were not merely evil for the sake of being evil, they have their reasons, and to them it is all logical. Thanks for the reviews. _

_Amineh1825: Hope you enjoy this one!_

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thanks so much!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the right to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Eighty One: Doctrina<span>

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There was never a single moment within the entirety of my existence so far, that I could honestly imagine myself to have once again agreed to such a notion. They had known all along what this would entail, and how clever they were to bring me along on the journey of stratagem for their end achievement. To leave me with no way to refuse, to bind me to them with cunning words and brilliant deductions. Having always been considered a physical force, one could never disregard the Volturi's political power.

While everything seemed so very genteel, with ease of words, and promise of success, there still lingered a deep and foreboding undercurrent. A forceful presence that insinuated the choice they presented was fictitious, and the only option was to blatantly follow them. Because forging my own way, and refusing to be a part of their schemes did not seem like a possible route. There was no one around to vouch for me should something untoward happen by their hand, I would merely be another disposable number.

It did not help that while I removed myself to a stoic silence; deliberating over giving myself so freely to the manipulative vampire, that Aro made his approach onto the lawns. And while this time there was no Caius to keep him company, the likes of a familiar blonde haired child keenly followed in his wake.

Casting her innocently claret eyes across the field in such a critical manner, it seemed she distained of everything around her. From the brief interactions I had with Jane, it seemed she held herself with much higher merit than the mere plebeians that she was forced to alliance herself with. And those cloaked in gray tended to cast their eyes downwards upon her passing, and the same action seemed to ring true for her male duplicate.

Aro did no favours for her pride; she was undoubtedly a preferred member of his assemblage. Not that I could particularly fault him, better to be on the side of evil, than in its path.

I avoided contact with her, and cast my own roving gaze around her person but never upon it. Only greeting Aro when he made an address.

He always seemed to be present at the most crucial of times, a penchant for timing, or perhaps a horde of sleuths at his disposal. It seemed the latter was most likely.

"Has everything been agreed upon?" He began with the presumption that I should not hesitate to argue.

"I'm afraid not." I stated, with a strange tone of conviction which did not reflect the turmoil I was actually feeling. "Allowing someone to…tamper with my inner degrees is not something I will look on with particular favour."

"Naturally, naturally, one cannot help but be a little apprehensive…but really there is no need. We are all friends here." He began, considering me with such a pointedly pleasant look. "And you know our words and promises are assured. Once you have firmly grasped a hold of your gift, there will be no need for Charmion to give you her aid."

His speech did nothing to quell the fears I had, and deep down I knew that allowing her to initiate physical contact was an utter mistake. Opening myself up fully to such a barrage.

But he was directly before me, smiling in such a sly manner, knowing that he was already successful. Surrounded by his horde of cortege, with their gifts and physical prowess. I was trapped within a terror, ensnared within a nightmare. And no matter how much I wished for someone to assist, nothing could save me from this situation.

How cold the feeling was, of utter hopelessness and melancholy concede. Giving myself over to something that was unscrupulous and sinister. Once again it seemed a time had come to pass when the only person in which I could depend upon, was myself. And so, consequently, preserving my life became the most important thing in the moment.

"I have your promise?" I questioned, nodding my head to seek his assurances, to fool myself into a notion of safety.

"Our most assured." Aro replied.

"So be it." I denounced.

Nothing could now postpone this moment. While myself worth and pride recoiled, wounded and trapped, blunt determination forced my arm forward. Offering my hand to whoever would insinuate the attack. "Do what you will."

With a nod from her master, Charmion came forward. Her hand squarely atop mine with little delay or pause.

The feelings that she bequeath me made my body shudder in response, but no matter how much I knew I should waver and balk, something sentimental forced me still. There were great lashings of feelings placed firmly upon my person, so many, that at first they were almost impossible to distinguish. While my mind continued to struggle with rational thoughts, tight and constricting emotions lashed violently.

Humans loved to toy with the notion that deep feelings came from the depths of one's heart, and should that have any inclination to be true, then mine was so vehemently betraying what my mind was screaming.

"Don't fight against it." Charmion spoke, her fingers curling around my palm. "Everything will be fine, trust me."

Trust her I did. No matter how irrational it was. I had some unfathomable trust in not only her, but those standing around me. And the stronger the trust became, the weaker my resolve, until I felt it crumble, falling away with a vacant flutter.

"Should we perhaps try to instigate?" Aro stated slowly, watching me with ever cautious eyes. His hands jittering excitedly, half suspended within the air.

"I-I suppose." Came my reply, sounding unorthodoxy halcyon. "Progress must be made."

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><p>Her hand no longer rested upon mine, but instead found its place on my shoulder. Arched comfortably on the clavicle, her fingers curled slightly into the dip below the bone, keeping a hold of me as we tried again and again.<p>

The sound of the screaming male was deafening, he withered pathetically on the ground. Clawing violently at his face and head, as Jane unrelentingly forced her gift upon his frame.

"You are the only one that can stop his pain." Renata told me, watching the lowly ranked male groan and hiss in agony. "Concentrate."

"I can't!" I hissed at her, struggling to keep my composure, and shuddering under the forceful hand on me. "Just stop it. This clearly isn't working."

But Jane merely narrowed her claret eyes once more, and the shrieks grew ever louder. Until they rang with such horror across the lawns.

"Only you can stop it." Renata said once again.

"I can't." I yelled a vociferous complaint, trying to remove myself from Charmion's grasp. "This is barbaric. Leave him be."

No such compliance was gifted, and Aro did nothing but stand and watch from the proverbial sidelines.

The more the poor boy hollered, the more I began to panic. Feeling utterly helpless, and hysterical at his plight. Watching his pain was like a physical terror, and my failure to protect this man ran rampant in my chest.

"Stop it, Isabella." Renata whispered. "You can stop it. If not…he'll destroy himself. Tear at his own flesh. He'll kill himself if you don't help him."

I tried so hard to block out the sound of his screams, to calm my erratic breathing, and to think with a rational mind. But the cries were monstrous. And wave after wave of desire battered against me, until my mind shrieked that I had to help him, save him. Do something to take away the pain.

That _something_ finally gave way with an uncomfortable lurch. A tick, a pulsating feeling, that originated in the back of my skull. It throbbed in an uncomfortable manner, as if began to shift and changed. The awakening of some kind of entity.

My muscles shuddered violently in protest, coiling and quivering with the confines of my skin. It was only the strong, and dominating hand of Charmion, that kept me from lurching forward. The on-going screams were slightly dimmed by my own haggard breaths, inhaling great gasps of the warm air.

I recoiled away from such a foreign feeling, an unnatural plight.

But never once did the screams silence, hollering on and on with a maddening pitch. I didn't even know his name, and yet upon me was a need, a desire to save him. So irrational, and yet so forcefully present.

"Please." I begged enervated, dropping my gaze downwards to the grass about my feet. "Please, just stop it."

"You can stop it." Renata whispered once more. "Did you feel it? Feel the shift?" She prompted.

"I don't know." I bemoaned, fingers moving to entangle themselves within the depths of my snarled hair. But the strange sensation still lingered within the back of my head, like a freshly opened wound that one cannot help but touch. Subconsciously checking over the foreign quirk.

I thought about it. Considered it with due care and attention. Imagining being able to physically touch this asomatous thing. It reacted to the ministrations, fluttering once more, stretching outwards towards something undecided. The moment I ceased thinking of it, the entity snapped back with a benevolent force, like it were returning to where it belonged.

A malleable, flexible force, that seemed to act upon my bidding. A shield; that's what everyone kept calling it. With the ability, and supposed potential to protect not just myself, but those around me. And who was I to question the knowledge of the Volturi? For their knowledge expanded far beyond mine. While indeed their manner and morals could be called into question, everything was for the greater good. I needed to place my trust more firmly in them.

"I can feel something." I announced, taking a great breath of the air and standing much straighter than before. "There is something shifting."

"That's it." Renata declared, moving ever closer to my left hand side. "It is present to do your bidding and yours alone. You are in control of it."

Her inducement was well received, and I took her words into my considerations. Forcing myself to look pointedly upon the suffering male still decaying on the ground, his fingers pulling with such force on his own hair, I was sure he was close to scalping himself. Bypassing his less than stellar screams, I placed my application on the task to cease his pain. Forcefully telling myself to stop it, trying to create that same fluttering, and the tick that had presented itself before.

Like she had said, it did as requested. Grasping onto the processes of my mind, stretching slightly outwards. And with a violently rapid thought, I imagined it to flow ever further, gain ground and beset the male.

The howl stopped with a frightening cessation. And my first conclusion was that my ears had ceased to function.

But the male rolled onto his hands and knees, dragging in deep hauls of air that were audible in the clearing. And the noise of the Cicada were now also resounding.

Had it not been for Aro's loud and ostentatious cheering applause, and Jane's glowered, I may have put it down to her pity. But it seemed this was my doing.

I could even feel the strange sensation in my head. To describe it …I would declare the expansion akin to rubber, flexing around this new destination. Enclosing his mind within the protection I could offer. All the while something tried most vehemently to get through, and I knew from experience Jane was trying with all her might. Narrowing her eyes with such animosity they resembled mere slits.

"Excellent. Excellent." Aro announced aloud. "Such talents." He walked past the male guard member without so much as a spare glance; set to ignore the man as he sat on the grass. Clearly trying to recover after such a distressing encounter.

I tried to catch his eye, to convey some kind of apology, tell him how sorry I was. That I had not deliberately meant to cause him to suffer. But Aro was directly before me, his long cloak concealing the male from my sight.

"Did I not tell you." He said with an unnaturally blithe smile. "Now nothing shall stand in our way."

"I suppose so." I replied, nodding my head in an unconscious manner. "Now my side of the deal."

He paused, tight lipped, and considered me carefully, studying my face for some kind of assurance. Eventually; as I had come to expect, he gave Charmion the nod of compliance, and her hand dropped from my shoulder.

I was finally released from the confines of this unscrupulous manipulation, and like a dead weight her hold on me diminished. The haze of her gift cleared away, leaving behind a sickeningly violated feeling in its wake. And I made my silent vow to never allow her near me again.

As much as I hope this was the current end of my plight, Aro was not yet completely satisfied. I may have grasped protecting one person, but that simply wasn't good enough when he had a guard of over thirty persons. So for hours, upon hours, well past the setting of the sun, I was made to force my newly found gift to its extremities. Slowly gaining ground on an increasing number of minds.

Repetitive practice did bring with it some advantages; even if practice wasn't voluntary.

It was a strange occurrence, wrapping one's self around the minds of others, but very much liked their beings, each one was individual. A different feeling came from each, and thusly, even when I could not see the soul I was protecting, they were still identifiable. I began to document each members differences -of course without their knowledge- and it felt like I had an advantage; albeit a small one, over them.

And at this moment in time, any little triumph was well received.

Once Aro decided I had sufficiently mastered my ability for this expedition; and I should prove to be of some use, and not a mere liability. He retreated from sight, and I did not see him for an extensive amount of time. In fact I did not see any of the leaders, or their closest confidence, for the entirety of the long night. And my care came down to a group of grey cloaks; who had taken to following me around like personal sycophants.

Small talk was minimal, and any questions regarding the current happening were acutely avoided, and never expanded. Even Jasper was more accomplished in the art of tête-à-tête.

When I had grown quite bored of being followed around, and forced into the oppressive silence, I found a seat upon some less than sturdy timbre steps. Sitting close to the handrail to allow access to the building that the stairs supplied. After a good solid sit; and when it became clearly obvious I wasn't going to be moving any time soon, the grey cloaks dispersed away into the darkness, and finally I was relatively alone.

For the first time in far too long I had a moment to order myself, and collected together the current fragments of my demeanor. It were times like these that I mostly resigned myself to hiding in bed, or lying on the sofa in a haphazard manner. Stressful happenings, or upsetting moments were easy to overcome when at home. Kind words and comfort were easy to find. But home felt like a billion of fathoms away, with no assurances of when I would return.

I wondered if they knew where I was, or who was responsible for my disappearance, had they managed to figure that out yet?

While the idea of being reunited was the paramount occurrence I would wish for, the Volturi seemed mighty keen to advance into an altercation, and while skilled, I could not bring those I loved into a Southern war. There was nothing that could even compare to the savagery, the macabre sights, and carnage of the confrontations. Not when there was such a possibility of someone not making it back.

I just wanted to be home, where everything was normal, surrounded by my own coven, and away from this foreboding and terrible scene. Where the term ally had actual meaning, and like times before we would happily, and willingly come the aid of others. Voluntary.

This was compulsory volunteering. And that in itself was a paradox.

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><p><em>AN: Thanks all for reading! Please do leave some feedback, love to hear from you. Hope you enjoyed. _


	83. Chapter Eighty Two: Cogito

_A/N: Hello, sweeties. This chapter is being uploaded by some rather speedy free Wi-Fi, at a very lovely hotel in Dublin. Because I'm on an 'educational trip,' which has yet to reap any actual benefits to my Uni course. While Dublin is delightfully lovely, I am also elated that we have reached five hundred reviews, way to go everyone. Thanks so much for your continuing support. _

_Holidai: Yeah, Aro really has some issues, just living in his own little world most of the time. I think we can all imagine that Edward is probably pretty upset. Thanks for the review. _

_BadassEri90: Good to hear from you. And thank you so much for the review. I'd really like to have written Tanya's reaction to Bella's disappearance, I mean I'd be pretty anguished/angry to find my best friend missing. I'm sure I can graft her reaction in somewhere. Your comments are once again far too kind, but always succeed in making me smile, so thank you very much. For me it doesn't matter who managed to hit the five hundred review mark, but how I managed to get there, and it has been reviews like yours that have gotten me this far. Hope to hear from you soon._

_viola1701e: Indeed, it is highly doubtful that Aro will want to let Bella go. But I don't think he has much of a choice, if he manipulates her into staying, he will have to deal with not only the Cullen's wrath, but the entirety of their alliances. It would be a bad political move to anger such a large coven such as the Cullen's, and consequently the Denali's, better to have them as possible allies than enemies. Thanks so much for the review!_

_reader346: Thanks for the feedback. I certainly miss writing about the other Cullen's, but unfortunately Aro didn't have the resources to kidnap the whole clan. So it will just be Bella for the moment. Hope I haven't kept you waiting too long. _

_Ren4: Thank you so much for your review. Such nice comments that make me blush. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: Glad you liked it! Thanks for the review._

_CullenBoy123: Thanks for reviewing; I hope my versions can live up to your expectations! _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Eighty Two: Cogito<span>

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July 28th 1950

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At the very dead of night, closer now to the dawn of a new day, they began to stir. First, groups of no more than three departed from the compound, drifting off into the darkness as mere shadows. Being quickly lost through the pitch black thickets, further concealed by the sound of the night breeze and the ever chirping crickets.

But as the first group left across the lawns, I considered nothing to be out of the ordinary, and merely huddled closer to the rickety banister spindles, and away from the accumulating ground fog. On the odd occasion the thin moon shone through a break in the clouds, the haze reflected the meagre light with an eerie composition.

Unlike Alec's haze that moved with a purpose, this natural phenomenon travelled without a direction in mind. Tumbling and rolling over itself, lapping at the grass and surrounding the clusters of building like a great sea of smoke. When I stretched my legs from their crouch, and lay them flat against the steps, my feet became lost in the white fog. And the dampness of the haze condensed upon the leather of my lace up boots.

While as haunting and mysterious as the weather may have been, it could not cloak or disguise the gruesome goings on as those who had previously departed the compound finally returned. The scent of pure water, heavily ladened apple blossoms, became pervaded and saturated with the stench of human blood. Its sickly sweet fragrance and enticing perfume was impossible to ignore. The three who returned reeked of fresh kills.

As soon as they were out of sight, three more left the lawns, and it dawned that the Volturi were staging their hunt.

Their order and precision could not be faulted. Small groups, one after another, perfect coordination. Any human target would soon be dispatched and consumed, with no trace, and no scuffle. It would appear their meal would have simply vanished from the face of the earth. It was what every human drinking vampire aspired to mimic, myself included. To have the success they have, to leave no incriminating evidence behind, to hunt with such courtliness.

Something hard to accomplish when one hunted fauna, because we became as beastly as the very creatures we preyed upon. It was incredible how the thought of hunting humans came so easily to mind, when you were not with those who shared the same dietary disposition. Because that old foe, the one who lived in the deepest recesses of the subconscious, always seemed to roam further than I usually liked to allow it. And she was nasty, a horrible being, whom appeared when things were difficult, mocked and simpered her way to the front, toying with logic.

I liked to imagine another being living within my mind, a stronger and better me, one who forcefully prevented the nasty things from getting through. Keeping me on the straight and narrow. It was an entity I needed and listen to. It was she who kept my end goal in front of my eyes, made me stride towards it. And for the moment that was making it back home.

So I sat, never moving, watching as these groups came and went. Occasionally I threw out a groping, fumbling shield, a curious hand into the darkness, wondering who was off this time. The whole issue regarding this strange sudden ability was indeed as fascinating as they all said, but I was more impresses with the fact I could be a nosy as I liked and no one knew any different. And I came to ponder if I could prevent Edward from reading the minds of those in the near vicinity, he could finally play cards with the rest of us. That idea was lovely.

As the night progressed onwards, and the hour of dawn arrived, the haze to slightly thicken as the temperature began to rise. Until I could breathe in the mist, and feel the dampness in my throat. The precipitation it left behind made my hands clammy, and clothing damp with the airborne dew. And with no discomfort felt on my part, I was quite content to stay put as long as was physically possible. With an earnest hope that they had forgotten me completely, and would leave me quite behind.

But alas, come dawn, such an occasion did not arise, and across the lawns once again came a horde of black cloaks. Kicking up the last of the low lying fog, and looking quite menacing with their newly ameliorate eyes. And once again the encroached upon the spot in which I had pitched myself, Felix, Charmion -and a surprising change to the meet- Santiago.

"Aro says it would be best if you were to-"

"Hunt?" I summed.

"Yes." Charmion confirmed, her frequently bland expression was once again I gift was forced to bear.

"Excellent." I acknowledge, standing up upon the very step I had been sitting on. "I'm absolutely famished, and from all the movement this morn…perhaps I can assume a plan has been made?"

They shifted ever so slightly, a move that resonated far more than words ever could. For an uneasy shift usually meant I was not privy to the information that had been discussed. And in a moment of brilliant clarity, I could not help myself.

"It's alright." I consoled, without any such concern. "We're all allies here. I know preparation for a fight, when I see it."

"That is yet to be determined." Felix told me quite pointedly.

"So why the sudden need for me to hunt? I usually determine my own dinner time." I replied, taking the opportunity to lord the sudden superiority in height over them. "If I'm quite honest I wouldn't mind waiting until sunrise, I find dawn such a bothersome time to find food."

"It is detrimental you hunt now." Santiago asserted, falling quite brilliantly into my little game of tête-à-tête.

"Oh? Right at this moment?" I fretted, touching my mind against his, merely for the sensation of domination. "Sounds like a battle is upon the horizon."

He looked slightly malcontent at my reply; although it may have been upon realising he had fallen for the colloquy manipulation. I hope he berated himself most vehemently, and sort to improve his language skills. Although that seemed unlikely.

"It is time for you to hunt." Came his final reply, and with a bellow of his cloak he sort to set a trail, that I presumed I was to follow.

"Lead the way." I commented.

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><p>The quiet beauty and serenity of the morn was unrecognisable upon my return, and it seemed each and every vampire that had been hidden within the maze of this compound was now visible on the extensive lawns. A great mirage of dark hues against the lush backdrop of the valley; revealing all members I had come across, and those I had yet to meet.<p>

And my general assertion of thirty was frightfully accurate.

No one really considered me as I walked through the throngs of patiently waiting beings, guided, once again, by the burly Santiago. Apparently my presence was of little interest to them anymore, I had sadly been here long enough for them to become desensitised to me. Just another vampire in the masses, another number for the count. No one particularly special.

It was a strange feeling to walk passed the huddles of groups. For no one in the coven seemed to be particularly attached to each other. While so fantastic, and perfect in the things they accomplished together, no one seemed to harbour anything other than a mere toleration for each other. There was no witty banter, playful arguments, or smiles. Just an eerie, substandard bond of understanding –understanding that they all seemed to share the same overall ambition- that was hard to read, and even harder to understand.

I had known a situation of mostly toleration, but even in the south newborns still made attachments to each other. And there was conversation to be had, even on the rare occasion a playful easy kind of talk.

But this was really unlike anything I had ever encountered. Maybe, I was looking upon it from the wrong kind of perspective, maybe they were not as cold with each other I suspected. Perhaps there was camaraderie, just of a different type to that I was used to, maybe this was the silent type. The type that came with age, experience…faith in the ones you fought alongside with. Faith that there was a vampire amongst the midst who was bonding you all together, maybe words were not needed.

I very much preferred the witty banter, playful arguments, smiling, kind of camaraderie. I lacked the finesse to deal with the silent kind.

"A successful hunt is always good to sharpen one's prowess." Aro preached over the porch banister, a hand lingering lightly on the fragile wood. It seemed his _finesse _knew no limits.

"I can already feel the benefits of such early morning exploits." I replied.

"And I hope all our movements this morning did not disturb you from your moment of peace." He said.

"Not at all." I lied, curling the end of my messy braid around my finger. "Can I thusly presume we are heading south?"

He beckoned me towards him, with that same relaxed manner that made him so unpredictable. Each step I took up those rickety steps, was watched with due care. And once my feat was accomplished, he gestured, with an open palm, to his left hand side. An action I felt coerced into accepting.

Behind us two, keeping mostly to the darkness offered by the porch canopy, both Caius and Marcus stood respectively. Allowing their more elaborate brother to come to the forefront as per usual, taking centre stage in his on-going performance. But not once did I forget that they stood behind me, their ominous presence was hard to ignore.

"I'm not one to prolong the inevitable." Came Aro's first declaration. "We have been planning this assault since the very moment the Romanian's location – and consequently – their unfortunate alliance, was first discovered."

"Understandable." I commented vaguely, deciding looking out across the masses of darkly dresses figures was the best place for my eyes to gaze.

"You must be under no illusion." He said, tipping his head towards me ever so slightly. "That we shall destroy each and every person who is present, and seen to be cavorting alongside both they, and your friend Percival."

"You mistake our relationship." I told him pointedly. "He is no more than a stranger now."

He nodded his head, as though liking the confirmation of our relationship. "I believe success is much more attainable when all partaker's agree…even as a Cullen,_ you_ seem the most open to admitting that mercy is not always a viable option."

"I am a Cullen. And such a thing will never change, regardless of location." I affirmed tightly. "We live by rules that may seem strange to others, and they in turn may not agree with. But you, however, are correct in noting that I like to leave nothing to chance. Mercy – while a good and honourable trait to possess – can leave one open to all sorts of dangers. Therefore a balance must be forged."

"So you believe you can rationalise with these…cretins." Caius interjected forcefully.

"No. Not at all. In fact I believe this is one of those times, in which mercy cannot exist. The rules are there to be abided by. So…do with them what you will." I exclaimed.

"It delights me to hear such a thing from you." Aro replied.

It did not delight me. But if it kept him happy, and agreeable, then I would declare the blunt and callous words I spoke, to me nothing more than a miraculous success.

"Are we quite finished with this duologue?" Caius interjected.

"I believe it is time to make a move." Marcus supplied. "It is important we make our destination by nightfall."

"We are pushing for time." Caius agreed, stepping adeptly from his shadowy hideaway towards us. "We need to make for optimum conditions, and that is a small time scale."

In turn to these spoken words, Aro pulled lightly on a chain about his torso. Lost within the depths of his velvet lined pocket, one end of the gold succession fell, while the other hooped within the button hole of his waistcoat. With an easy pull, and a fluid movement, the lost end gave way to a striking opulent pocket watch.

"And what time do you make it?" Aro queried, tapping the glass frontage of his watch.

"Thirteen minutes past ten." Caius answered promptly.

"I the same." Marcus confirmed.

"How strange that I should find myself three minutes out." Aro mused, distracted by turning the crown. The two brothers hid their impatience well. "There." He eventually pronounced. "I am once again back on time…and indeed you are quite right, it is time we made our move."

Accordingly, with no pause for deliberation, he descended from the porch, black fabric billowing out behind him and a purposeful stride. Any guard member within his path soon stepped aside, staying put as Caius soon followed on behind.

"You are to travel alongside us." Marcus told me, offering his arm towards me.

I placed my hand within the crook of his, and allowed him to escort me in the same direction as his close kin. He was a great deal taller than I, and thusly the arm chaperone was a slightly awkward deal, due to the difference in stature. He didn't seem to mind, or was excellent in hiding his discomfort.

While I disliked the general consensus of physical contact with relative strangers, I think it was the best of what was on offer. Because the alternatives were ghastly.

"I hope you are quite prepared for what is going to take place within the next twenty four hours." He said rather spiritlessly.

"Well I'll admit to a lack of briefing, but I'm prepared to believe you all know what you are doing…I am merely at your disposal." I told him plainly.

"One can only plan so far." Was his response. "We plan for ultimate success, and have looked upon many possible variables. But even we cannot plan for each and every one, for there are an infinite number of outcomes to each decision. My advice, therefore, would be for you not to lax your guard."

I considered him for a single moment, attempting to study what he meant by his words. But he never made any such contact with me. And in turn I was forced to reply with a meagre response of: "Noted." And nothing else was shared.

All it took was a general flick of his wrists, and Aro sent his guard running in each direction, within a group consisting of the most important members, and valuable assets, we ran towards an unknown destination. I, betwixt both Felix and Demetri, had to keep up a paced run, working a lot harder than I usually did. Each and every member regardless of size seemed to have such long and powerful strides; and although they could not match the likes of Edward's speed, they were all extremely accomplished.

As the morn now turned into afternoon, the heat steadily began to increase, until I could feel the dark fabric of my breeches warm against my legs. And the ground that had been rich with fertile soil, was now more akin to the sandy earth I would expect so far south. Still we managed to keep to the relative safety of the continuing coverage of evergreens, and never once seemed to pass by any large or substantial human dwellings.

Beautifully executed as usual.

For hours and hours, we scaled valleys and rough terrain, the sun constantly beating down upon us. Its rays so bright against the light coloured sand. Never once did we cross paths with the other groups who had departed in other direction, and I summed they were traveling along other pre-set courses, smaller numbers to limit the amount of exposure.

While no mentions of the other guard members ever came into conversation, there was a brief and limited referral of Hermosillo.

The small city, around one hundred and fifty miles south of the boarder, had been the regular haunt of quite a large army; one that we never had the numbers to altercate with. But from the words spoken, and absolute silence regarding said army, it sounded like they were either long gone, or now in cohorts with the Romanian's.

But I should applaud them on the use of such a city. While quite a way into old army territory, it lay on the outer extremities of the lands, and therefore a perfect spot to hide a task force. Or plan an ambush, or enforce whatever plan the Volturi were traveling by.

Having been around them for the better part of forty eight hours, I confess to having become rather nonplussed within their presence. While I would not readily place my trust within them, I had enough faith to accept their plan rather blindly. And it was not until we had perhaps crossed the border, that the actual reality of the goings on hit.

Surrounds once again began to change, the sand underfoot seemed finer, the scent of salt and burning wood came clear, and the pulsating heat soon followed. It was an archaic feeling, one that came along with assault upon my senses, a familiarity, a tirade of recollection, the full force of the horrors, but also, most strangely, those occasional moments of contentment.

I had always looked back upon the salt plains, and desert of Mexico, with general abhorred disgust. Yet now, being back, that fastidious feeling was tangled with a mirthless melancholy. Facing a past that I could not forget, no matter how domesticated I became.

The moment became real, and the task at hand past mere hypothetical notions; we were here to destroy our own kind. To massacre those who were not living by the rules. This was not an altercation to merely recall through word of mouth, I was going to be apart of this. And it became so very apparent that I had once again returned to the south.

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><p><em>AN: I'm so pumped to get these next chapters out, all the action and such. Thanks once again to all those who continue to follow, super grateful to each and everyone. _

_So please do review, love getting some chapter feedback. _


	84. Chapter EightyThree: Metus

_A/N: Hello, all. Back home in the very sunny but chilly London, dealing with the usual crappy internet connection. Trying to match up paint samples with the wall colour, so our landlord won't see the scuffs on the wall, and I can get back my deposit. Generally trying to choose between buying textbooks, and eating. The usual hilarity of student life. But despite picking food -and trying to consume by body weight in biscuits- thank you to all those who have left some feedback, placed the story on alert or favioured. And welcome to all who have caught up with us on the latest chapter._

_Holidai: Well I'm glad that point was put across, it was difficult to explore emotions with everything going on, I really hoped I hadn't neglected either one. Thanks so much for the encouragement; you have put my mind at ease._

_viola1701e: I was extremely excited to start writing this chapter; it is a plot that had been a long time coming. I hope you find these to be to your liking, and live up to expectation. Oh Ireland was spectacular! The sights and the atmosphere, indeed the beer was great, and the food too. It is definitely a brilliant place, and I hope to make a return soon. Thanks for reviewing!_

_Xxvicky2freshxX: Thank you very much! And for reviewing. _

_Guest: Twice! Oh my goodness you are far too kind, you have succeeded in making my day. I too am looking forward to writing, and getting out the up comings chapters. I hope you continue to read and enjoy, and once again thank you so much for such nice words. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Eighty Three: Metus<span>

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The sand blew in every direction, swirling and climbing in an amorphous mass of gritty tan. Hiding away the sun's rays, and turning dusk into an eerie red mirage. The particles had been stirred up by the strong winds, some hundred miles due south, and now came towards us, hanging in the atmosphere and bathing the sky claret. It didn't matter where one tried to conceal themselves, nothing could keep you from the violence of the sand storm.

Some hours ago, perhaps during the late afternoon, when we had first greeted the dust storm that blew across the desert, they had offered me a small respite from the torrent. As I struggled to shield my face from the barrage of sand, a hand offered me an item I would have otherwise refused. But as the tiny grains of worn rock blew into my eyes, and entangled themselves within the length of my hair, I could not refuse the welcome respite.

Thusly I swung the heavy velvet cloak over my shoulders, fixing up the shiny clasps, and hooking the silver chain about my neck. For last measure, I threw up the bountiful capuche, and was happy to find at least some cessation from the storm.

While looking all the while menacing, a little difficult to run in, and a well-known Volturi uniform, the long capes were a most ingenious idea. Offering far better protection from the elements, than a mere coat, and how easy it was to feel intimidatory within the wrap of jet. One could almost move without being detected, just part of the mass of black, another member of this very minacious group. It was indeed better to be a nameless face within the mass, than standing out.

My own plan - albeit limited- was to make sure I was as invisible as possible, survive this altercation, and make it back home as quickly and swiftly as possible. This was no place for stupid heroics.

And with this nearly impenetrable storm, it seemed being invisible was the plan of attack. These were ample and perfect conditions for an ambush; as long as _said_ conditions remained to aid us and not the other side.

Now as the day began to give way to the night, the storm only got progressively worse, the dipping temperatures caused the winds to further howl, and more and more top sand took to the sky. While the surroundings were less than stellar, nothing encroached upon the speed and aptitude in which we travelled; nothing could stop the on-going pace towards our destination. Such fluidity through the sparse trees, and passing almost unheard along the barren landscape. Even when the sun fell into the horizon at the then end of the day, the darkness did nothing to hinder their sense of direction, and I was merely left to follow in the masses, blind to my surroundings and completely dependent upon them.

Sometime –for telling time was nigh on impossible- Aro made the decision to stop and thusly the whole group did. Clustered in-between the height of Felix and Santiago, I could only see our new destination when they eventually moved aside.

But a destination it was not.

There was nothing but the remains of an old shepherd hut, and the cover of the craggy Mexican mountains, to recommend our stop. The steepness of the peaks sent the sand storm sailing far above, and at least some shelter could be found for the time being.

The guard members clustered and watched on as Aro once again consulted his pocket watch, dusting the sand from the dial, before eventually snapping it shut. He seemed pleasantly assured, and took to sharing such regards with his brothers.

"Is there a reason for this stop?" I queried quietly, hope than either one of the males either side me would indulge something.

"It is a scheduled stop." Affirmed Felix, removing his hood and dusting the sand from his broad shoulders. "We are to regroup with the others."

"It seems like a very nonplussed place." I replied, finding a little delight at the inner pockets within my cloak. "Why here?"

"Looks can be extremely deceiving." Santiago interjected. His weighty black boots crunching sardonically against the rocks below his feet. "We are merely a mile away from Hermosillo."

"So close." I muttered rhetorically. "I will applaud the use of this storm, for I had no idea we were so far south."

"It is the type of storm we have been waiting for." Felix told me. "When we got word of its accumulation, it was vital to move quickly. It is not often such a perfect opportunity arises."

"How astute." I commented, watching the small huddle of leaders off towards the right. Lightly expanding my shield to touch their individual minds, then encompassing them all together. It made me feel all the more included within their private conversation. They consulted, talked, planned in secret, keeping the discussion from any of us attempting to eavesdrop. Or perhaps the guard already knew, and it was just I being kept from the loop.

It was only when the small groups we had separated from back at the compound, begun to appear from the sands, that they even took an interest in anything else.

Eventually, one by one, their cloaks covered in the mass of red particles, the groups of three and four began to arrive from all directions. Joining the growing number, and seeking protection under the cover of the jutting rocks above. Caius was quick to question each group as they arrived, asking what they had seen, had they encountered any troubles across the way. They all gave brief but detailed accounts, and lastly affirmed negative.

And then we waited.

Patiently at first. Then a little restlessly. Before Aro was all but pacing in his edginess.

"Are we missing people?" I wondered to the little group I was part of.

"Indeed." Charmion replied over the sound of the howling wind. "It would seem we are short of three."

"Three who are merely expendable." Santiago supplied, with an unbothered air. Stretching forth his interlaced hands, and waiting for the fragile pop of human joints that never came. "Easily replaced." He looked at me with a sly smile.

"I'm flattered, but you wouldn't wish to live with me." I told him plainly, having little desire to me intimidated by a great hulk of flesh. "I'd make it my life's business to thwart and torment you, I may even forget to shield your mind once in a while… make things really interesting."

"Those are some big threats, from someone of such a lithe-"

"Santiago, let us mine our manners." Charmion proclaimed, sounding a good deal like Aro in her pronunciation. "I don't think it wise to aggravate those who are aiding us."

And consequently not another word was uttered in my direction, and such the witty banter met its demise.

It was the regular snap of the pocket watch clasp, that permeated the roar of the tempest and the quiet murmur of conversation. As the minutes ticked by; turning into a quarter, a half, and eventually a full hour, Aro became increasingly aggravated. The easy smile and tempered emotion he wore began to fray.

"We must continue onwards without them." Caius was heard exclaiming, flexing his leather clad fingers. "This cannot infringe our plans, we have waited long enough."

"Something must have interrupted their journey." Marcus summed mostly to himself. "We can only hope our stealth remains intact, otherwise we are most likely heading towards certain hopelessness."

"Even if we lose such an advantage, we still are more than…qualified to deal with such a threat. Indeed we have waited long enough, with such circumstances, we need to be rid of this threat." Aro dictated, before looking back towards his guard members. Considering us all for a good while, until eventually the crease upon his brow began to lax. "We move with the plan still intact." He stated, obviously pleased with the sight of his minions.

His two brothers agreed; and before I could really comprehend we were once again running. Sand beneath feet, sand in face, and sand generally pouring into any gap that wasn't covered. But this time I was forced upfront, alongside Renata, as we awkwardly ran next to the three leaders. Trying to remain with them at all times, to have ourselves on guard. No ease came with their demands, having to keep myself on track in the obscurity, run and climb with little notice, and keep myself focused enough to remember to throw out the occasional fumbling shield.

I was mentally exhausted, and we had accomplished nothing but covered ourselves in dirt.

But after scaling a particularly steep cluster of ranges, and overcoming their cliff faces, things finally began to change. The wind that had been so feverish seemed to die, and allowed through some of the sun's last rays of the day. It seemed my predicted timing was sorely out. It was only just dusk.

In the distance, standing up astute against the expected barren horizon, were great clusters of trees. Their height, and pure presence on the land, was keeping most of the storm at bay in all directions. For the first time in so many hours, I could breathe in the air without getting a mouth full of desert granules. And the heat from the now visible ground, created a mirage as far as the eye could see. Like a great shimmering lake, blinding bright, reflecting the forests and the sky above.

And drowning in that great lake, were an army of figures stretching as far as the eye could see. Standing so tall with their own reflections in the watery hallucination.

"It would seem, we have been discovered." Came Marcus's brilliant deduction.

Never would I have expected to see such great and formidable number. At least fifty, or more so at first count. It was one of the most frightfully horrendous scenes I could ever have imagined coming across. Figure after figure, person after person. The vision of a complete army. Never would I have ever expected Percival to have been so utterly successful, to expect this occurrence.

Even so, while I struggled to quell my own fearful discomposure, the experience of the ages, and a timeless practice of self-control made sure nothing but a graceful vexation was displayed by the leaders.

"It matters not." Aro declared ruefully. "We must merely convert to the other plan. And first and foremost, I will place my trust in you to protect us, Isabella."

"As you wish." I managed to reply through a thick throat. Taking some strength from their words, enough to first force out a shaky and unbalanced kind of shield, it failed the first time, snapping back with the utmost loyalty. The second time was almost a success. But third time really was the charm, and I felt each and every mind upon our side encompassed comfortably. "It is done."

"Truly?" Caius poised.

"Done." I repeated.

"Then, make sure it remains that way." He threatened, pulling his cloak outwards in a billowing motion.

No one reprimanded his manners this time around.

"I believe, it is time we announced ourselves." Aro stated loudly; the degree of calm exuberance had crept back into his voice. In turn, both Alec and Jane sailed to the front, taking up their expected places as the most valuable assets.

There was no great battle cry, or call to war, just an eerily calm walk towards the great horde of newborns. I stationed myself behind the over bearing height of Marcus, and was content to remain out of sight. Away from being identified by Percival, away from any attentions being bestowed upon me. And ever more I was thankful for having accepted the great cloak that aided me in my attempts, casting shadows I could hide in.

All too soon, the three leaders of the Volturi came face to face with the three leaders of their opposition. And it became _oh so_ painfully clear that there was no way of escaping this, the numbers were great, the stakes were high, and neither side looked to be open to small talk.

"You have been found guilty of breaching one of the laws." Aro stated loudly, his voice overcoming the fathoms between the two sides, and the noise of the howling winds.

"I sense double standards, hypocrisy, and a world held under your iron fist…old friend." One of the Români brothers replied.

"A breach of such a law, holds with it the most severe of consequences, for not only yourselves, but all those who follow." Aro stated once again, ignoring the violent jab at his ruling. "Allowing you to have such a group would be hypocrisy. Therefore under the covenant – agreed and upheld by the honest- you and the entirety of your army will be destroyed, post haste…old friend."

The roar of numerous newborn growls hit the air, and the animosity of the situation increased ten fold.

"We reject your ruling." The second pale brother shouted back. "And therefore it is only _just and fair_ that a retaliation is gathered." He stretched his arms outwards, and gestured wildly to the mass of savage looking juveniles behind him. "And three members down already, are you quite sure you are ready Aro of the Volturi?"

"Such gallant words." Aro proclaimed with a small chuckle. "I should do well to account them as your last."

His hand flicked forward with an almost unintentional motion, but those with experience knew nothing Aro ever did was by mere chance. And accordingly, it materialised like a great phenomenon, the white haze began to curl upwards from the ground. Stationary at first, before it began to gain footing, and then faster it crawled, ever quicker, ever swifter, and ever closer towards the enemy.

They in turn did not stand idle. An archaic and savage battle cry rang forth, and in turn the newborns bolted forwards, consuming the ground with a savage hunger. Some fell to the sand in the chaos, taking to all fours like common beasts, before eventually uprighting themselves.

All around the black and grey cloaks tensed, and rumbles of baleful animosity rang forth like the storm. Crouches began to form, muscles tensed, and the familiar feel of battle ambience filled the air.

I watched in morbid fascination as the first wave of figures faulted the moment they reached the haze, falling like flies, withering and choking. But the second wave merely ran over their prone bodies. Yet it was not long before they too were caught within a pain, this one brutally force upon them by the second witch twin.

But it didn't matter, for yet another line of savages came forth, like a plague upon the land. Leaping over the bodies of the dying, moving with hideous adeptness.

And with the twins tied to the fate of the convulsing corpses, it was the rest of us who were forced to entail the great influx of bodies rushing towards us. Before I could comprehend my own actions, we were enthralled within a battle. Hands ready, mouths ajar, unleashing our more animalistic and contemptible sides for exploration.

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><p><em>AN: Another chapter done and dusted. And with it the real beginning of is battle, fight….thing. I hope you have all enjoyed. _

_And just another little note to say anyone looking for a really great and super friendly forum to join…I hear __**Twilight Fanfiction Challenges and Competitions **__is pretty good (to which a little self advertising is implemented, because I have had the great fortune to become a Mod on the forum.) It's still quite new and we are looking out for new members to come and chat, join in the competitions, swap advice. Come take a look!_

_Thank to all for reading, hope you will leave some feedback. _


	85. Chapter Eighty Four: Bellum

_A/N: Hello, sweeties. I am absolutely delighted to have just about made my weekly deadline; that little foreboding dot upon my calendar seems to loom ever closer. It has been a week of watching Lord of the Rings war scenes, and trying to formulate some kind of battle plan to fit around my plot…which undoubtedly lead to a LOTR marathon. For research purposes, of course. _

_Thanks graciously for all the feedback, alerts, and such. And hello to all those who have joined! Nice to have you, and thanks for picking up this story._

_viola1701e: Indeed the fight begins (insert slight panicky face) oh goodness this is one chapter I am quite nervous about putting out. It feels like a pinnacle point. See, the Volturi cloak is not only for uniform purposes, but to protect them from rain, and possible sand storms…so they can rock up to destinations looking brilliantly pristine. Thanks for the review, always great to see your email in my box. _

_Holidai: I dislike having all powerful, impossible to defeat groups, it's much more believable; and fun, for people to have flaws. Now, I know the Volturi are pretty impressive, but even they must have problems and issues. So I'm delighted to hear it was gritty. As for Bella making it home to the Cullen's…well we shall see. Thanks very for the feedback!_

_itissixoclock: Oh thank you so very much! I have managed to develop quite a soft spot for my Bella; although I will admit that some of her character traits are based off my grandmother, so that may be why. Hearing such nice words makes me extremely happy, thank you._

_Amineh1825: And I can't wait to give you more! Thanks very much! _

_Discalimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Eighty Four: Bellum<span>

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For a moment, just one was little moment, I could watch on without any physical input on my behalf, and I in that single suspended second, I saw the opening horrors. Watched the very first monstrosities, and bore witness to the violence.

But as the astutely tall figure of Marcus plunged forward; implementing himself upon several approaching figures, with a savageness I did not expect, I was suddenly wide open to all manner of attack. It was only when a claw like hand shot towards me, that I remembered moving was indeed necessary.

She; or what was left of this young woman, barely resembled any kind of humanity, and came towards me with a primitive desire to tear into any kind of flesh. I bypassed her arms with almost painful ease, entangling my hands within the matted reminisce of her once pretty red hair, wrenching back her head, and using my teeth in a manner that only a vampire could understand. She was dispatched far too easily.

The second being to come my way was a little more troublesome, he was older that the rest, and looked to have a good deal more experience. He first bypassed Caius's ancient skills, and enthralled at looking for a new target. My eyes managed to meet is vibrant red ones across the gap, and thusly I was identified as an ideal candidate. But the link was broken as Santiago passed between us, three decapitations swinging by the hair in his hands, as he juggled to remove a silver Vesta case from his pocket.

All the while the screams began to ring loud and clear, shrieks, calls, and hollers, from every direction. Not even the winds above could drown them out.

The missing male soon made a re-appearance, and had not forgotten about me after all. I wasn't quite prepared for him to catch my normally nimble pass-by, and his great arms managed to catch me quite adeptly; it being the great dark cloak that caused my downfall. He caught the hem of the capuche, and dragged me back towards him, his teeth managing to catch my jaw bone in a failed attempt at my neck. The venom burned with its usual finesse.

I snarled quite a violent sound, managing to surprise myself into some kind of spurred action, lashing out towards his face with my talons. Although I met nothing, the momentum of my great sporadic movement was enough to snap the cloak chain bout my neck and I fell cleanly out of the velvet jet.

I upon the desert floor, and he still holding onto the cloak.

His moment of confusion was enough for me to finally gather my wits, and now free of my confines, I was able to formulate my scheme. Surging upwards from the ground on tightly coiled muscles, we clashed. The sheer impulse was enough to force him down, and I atop. With my hands restraining his arms, my mouth lunged towards his neck, biting down deeper and deeper into the skin and muscles, until I felt the cartilage and bone. Then outwards his throat came.

But goodness how simple this was turning out to be, far too easy, surely then someone should begin to wonder. The guard were making light work of the newborns, making each kill look artful and well-choreographed. Constantly adding body part after chunk of flesh to the fire, making the lilac smoke turn into a deep violet haze.

Time after time I fought against poorly trained newborns, and began to wonder what the point was in the sheer numbers of ill equipped, unskilled beings. Now covered in a range of venoms, and various splattering's of human blood from previous meals, I set out to scope the goings on in the landscape. Stepping past unrecognisable bits, strewn across the red sands, fighting against the occasional individual who evaided those guard members of a more vicious temperament.

It was at his time that I started to feel a more prominent stretch within the back of my mind, and between cleaning up my mess, and trying to grab for as much uncloaked skin as possible, I sort to find out what was forcing my shield to work harder. It was only after I managed to account for the guard members that I realised what was happening. The three brothers; with the aid of the witch twins and Renata were making their approach across the sands, heading directly towards the Români duo, and their small entourage.

There were repeated attempts to thwart their passage, but those who dared were reduced to nothing more than a pitiful shrieking cadaver. They moved with such assurance, and power, now confident this could go no other way than in their favour. Never once did they look back to regard we who were left behind, but perhaps continued onwards with the assurance that the rest of this army would be destroyed by our own fair hands.

I lost sight of them for a moment, as the purple smokes sailed on by, and another newborn decided to make an attempt on my life. Her teeth biting quite savagely into the junction between my neck and shoulder, managing to reach far deeper than I was comfortable with. I dug my thumbs deep within her optical sockets, throwing her far from me and straight towards the path of a grey cloak.

"I am slightly impressed." Came Santiago's heavy intonation, as he overcame his own victim. "I did not peg you down to be quite such a passionate assailant."

"You are easily impressed." I replied; moving aside to allow him easy access to the roaring blaze. "And it does not take much to dispatch these ones."

His answer was delayed as the wind changed direction, causing the violet gas to deflect in multiple directions, one of which was straight towards us. By the time it had cleared, Santiago's victim was no more.

He now stood aside me, wiping his hands upon his cloak, and watching out upon the scene. "No fight in them." He confirmed. "I agree it has been far too easy, this is most unlike Vladimir and Stefan. They would not be so foolish."

"Perhaps we have merely caught them off guard." I proposed, watching Felix dismantled a corpse with great enthusiasm.

"Maybe." Santiago calculated. "But did you not fight against one of the supposed elders; they possessed only a little more skill. What would be the point of having such useless beings?"

"Ah." Came another voice. "So I was not imaging such impertinence?" Heidi supplied, fingering a small rip within the fabric of her sleeve. "Had it not been for the numbers, I'd say it has been a wasted trip for most of us."

"So what has made them so brazen?" I queried, watching Jane and Alec take down any resistance that stood in their way. "Why stand so firmly when death is assured."

"They would not get far now that Demetri is back on the trail." Heidi replied.

"But still." Santiago pressed. "They could have bought themselves time at least…what of that man…Percival, is this a characteristic of his style." He gestured to the mass of burning vampires.

"No, from the time in which I knew him, he fought by the logic of skilled over sheer number." I responded. "But that was an awful long time ago, things change. And he has."

"They look far too placid for those about to be put to death." Santiago announced.

"Why haven't they partaken in the altercation?" I wondered aloud. "If all three are so keen upon revenge, why hold back until now?"

"I don't like this." Santiago pressed, his hands making forceful fists against his sides.

With the last numbers being rounded up by some unnamed grey cloaks, the rest of us stood stoic and watched Aro make a second great stand.

But within the ranks I found myself a part of; there were constant and quiet murmurings of uneasy notions. While it was too far for the words of the exchange to be heard, I kept my eyes upon the lips of the enemy, and tried my best to read what was being said. Mostly, and foremost those belonging to Percival.

He looked unchanged from our last encounter, still shaggy, still unkempt. Yet upon our last meeting he had left with a firm resolve, a plan, and a desire that burnt strongly, this time his eyes look almost blank. More than once, maybe three or four times, I watched his focus flicker above the Volturi leaders before him.

Then once more. Until Caius noticed his wavering attention, and turned to look where the vampire was preoccupied. He considered us first, milky eyes passing over each one of us. Satisfied we had succeeded; his gaze flew above our heads towards the backdrop of the mountains we had absconded down. And with immediate effect his face morphed into a burning rage, twisting with animosity.

"Ambuscade!" He roared.

I, and every single guard member, turned with unrivalled synchronisation. If the sight of the initial newborns had been a shock, little could have prepared us for the sight that greeted our eyes.

Standing, crouching, and lording over the flat valley, from their craggy vantage point, was an army with numbers that I could surely call unrivaled by anything I had ever seen. Hordes and counts of beings, some hanging from the rock face, watching over us like a great and terrible omen.

Our line was incoherent, not one word passed between lips, we just dumbly watched onwards towards this threat on the horizon. Marcus had indeed been right, the utmost variations had been considered, and meticulously planned for. But there were indeed an infinite number of possible outcomes, not everything could be calculated. And this looked to be one of those infinite moments.

For the first time, truly, and honestly, I began to consider the fact that I may not be returning home. That this could possibly be the last events of my life, back on some godforsaken desert plain, part of a cause I had little belief in. And there was still so much I wanted to do.

"Merda." Felix muttered out a curse, turning swiftly on his heels to gage the reaction of those leading us.

But I could not tear my eyes away from the sight, like a tragedy, or some terrible carnage that you could not help but be entranced by. But this was not mere viewing, _goodness no; _this had the unfortunate crime of being my catastrophe.

There was shouting from somewhere, but it seemed dim and disembodied, the undeniable awe was too much for my senses to calculate everything that was going on. It was only when a sharp tug came about my arm, that any sense came back, and a harsh call of: "Close ranks," sounded within my ear.

It made no difference, for the moment we attempted to regroup; they began to fall from their vantage point. Leaping and free falling, like a great wave over the rocks. Roars already saturating the air, and drowning out any order that Aro could give within our last seconds. Even Jane and Alec's power could not stop the might of numbers, and while some fell through the effects of their gift, the persons were too great.

They swallowed our meagre twenty seven with ease.

And immediately I was assaulted by claws, and teeth, grabbing for my limbs, my neck, hair, clothes, anything that they could possibly get their hands upon. The pain exploded as teeth caught, and venom burnt in the open wounds. For every person I removed from myself, another would quickly take their place; it was only through sheer panicking movements that my head remained upon my torso.

These beings were no pushovers, but had the training an expertise I would expect from a well devised army. A well-deserved pack of proficient fighters.

It was only when I felt the horrid crunch of bones against teeth, and the subsequent pain that signified it was my bones being chewed upon. I screamed something akin to a primal pitch; and for a moment those around me frozen in a shudder. A pinnacle point in which to stage my own fracas. Without skill, and with survival foremost in my mind, I grappled for the first person within my line of sight. Striking at them with all the force my body could muster, and managing to throw them some distance away.

The other two still remained at my person, looking for a way past my defences and towards a quick dispatch at my neck. To the floor I tried to drop, ripping my arm from the mouth of one in the process, and hitting the dusty earth void of any grace. From here I kicked my foot directly into the knee of the larger male, and while he faltered, I found my own footing and leapt straight upwards into the face of biting female. My hands beat back her vicious armament, and took an unyielding grip upon her jaw bone.

Before the two males once again implemented themselves upon me, I rather deploringly used her body as some kind of living shield, and in their haste they decapitated her. Once more I forced the corpse into the approaching males, revelling in satisfaction as it struck them with all the brunt of its weight.

I shed the last scraps of my coat, tearing at the confining strips of fabric, and tossing them ground-wards.

Then with muscles coiled tightly I found my legs naturally descending into a stoop, and a vicious kind of rumble reverberated from my chest. Without waiting for them to surely mutilate me limb from limb, I decided to void the defence, and try a more aggressive offensive. Initially running straight for them, before ducking from hungry hands, and weaving out of possible bites. Initiating some skill that had been tucked away, hidden behind my more domesticated duties.

It was a well-placed strike; resulting from one of the males faulting over the other, that saw my hands sail through the hollow of his jaw. A firm grip, and a forceful tear later was enough to maim him, while I tried to destroy the other, currently attempting to crush me within his iron like grip. This one was by far the better of the two, he had evaded most of my tricks, and it was unsurprising his teeth would be the ones to find themselves embedded within the back of my neck. Twisting into my flesh like a carnivore over meat.

My end looked far too close for comfort.

But my saviour came in a very unlikely place. A cold flush against my calves, and a pressure accumulating at the back of my mind, identified that Alec was indeed nearby. But for all the brilliance of his satanic haze, it was not nearly high enough to affect this great male. So I lurched forward, struggling all the while and hooking my foot around his leg, we subsequently toppled to the sand with a slam of weight.

Straight into the less concentrated white fog. But it was enough to have the desired effect, his sudden and rapid loss of senses made it easy to overcome him. And both he and the maimed one were quickly disposed of.

There was no rest, for another came, followed by another, and another. Until I began to find a rhythm of systematic killing, a long forgotten finesse for the job, and an eventual enjoyment from each successful performance. Regardless to my thirst, the pain of the multiple, and extensive venom infected wounds, as well as the ongoing pulsating as my shield flexing, nothing could deter the constant drive to win.

Several times while enthralled within an altercation, I felt a shift within my mind. A small stutter that was different from the regular stretching I had grown accustom to, it came and went at regular intervals. I thought nothing of it until I came across one particular female, doing her best to seemingly void any such confrontation. Skirting her away from any fight, and looking most put out. I watched her brow furrow several times, and in turn, I felt the stutter again. Her frustration seemed paramount now, and she seemed keen to find someone within the throngs.

I decided to attempt to put a stop to her, and the gift she possessed, and rather foolhardily sort a passing strike. But upon approach, and then within the striking distance, I was overcome by another force. A physical clout that pushed me far from the scene, and away from the female I was targeting.

The cracked, drought ridden earth, came quick to meet my body, as I hit it with a tumble. But with vampiric reflexes on my side, and a quick flick of my wrists, I up righted with a sudden jolt. Letting out a hiss in indignation, like escaping steam.

The soul who had taken to throwing me around, somewhat akin to a rag doll, was the very last person I had hoped to come across. And still bound within my crouch, I could only look at him with an expressionless consideration. Greeting him with a less than stellar delight, and taking much more from the look of utter discombobulation that grew upon his face.

"You, Percival, have caused much tribulation." I told him.

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><p><em>AN: Done and done, I am kind of glad, and a little apprehensive to have this chapter out. It's one of those ones that becomes a pinnacle point, and I guess subsequently kind of important, this chapter dictates the flow of the next ones...but I hope you have enjoyed. _

_Please leave a review._


	86. Chapter Eighty Five: Infortunatus finis

_A/N: Hey all. Thanks for your patience, it has been a very… interesting week and a half, and many, frankly bizarre things have happened. But I'm glad to finally have this out. Thanks to everyone who has left me some feedback, alerts, favours, and such, much appreciated. _

_Holidai: Thank you so much, I'm so glad you were my first review. I'm always a little apprehensive when putting out these selections of chapters. But great to hear you liked the battle._

_viola1701e: Ha, perhaps I was a little too predictable with the ease, but I didn't want to make the first fight too easy. I'm very excited about writing this showdown, and there will be some ass kicking. Thank you so much for the review! _

_vxgt: Well thank you for the comment, get ready for some butt kicking._

_demilovato4eva: Thank you for alleviating my apprehensions! And don't worry, I know how stressful and busy this time of year is, it's nice to hear from you whenever. Hope you continue to enjoy._

_CullenBoy123: I'm glad you liked it; these have been some of the toughest chapters to write, so thank you so much for the feedback. _

_Dazzle me in purple: Hope I haven't kept you waiting for too long. And that you enjoy the next chapters just as much. Thanks for the review._

_Passing-Glace: Thank you so much for the review. You are far too kind. And for picking up on those errors, I'm watching for them with a keen eye! The 'By/My' thing is an unfortunate trait of my dyslexia, I have a tendency of getting letters the wrong way round. And 'detrimental' is just a fail on my part! I've actually been on the hunt for a BETA reader for quite a while now…I really need someone to go back and help me clean up the chapters. Now about the 'now time period', I do have some rather sketchy plans…and George will definitely be making an appearance. Anyway, thanks for the advice, and the review! Hope you continue to enjoy. _

_CharlotteKandie1221: Cry? Goodness was chapter 21 really that sweet? Hope you have made it to chapter eighty five! Thanks for reviewing. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Eighty Five: Infortunatus finis<span>

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The grim line of his mouth laxed suddenly, and his bottom lip quivered out a failed attempt to form the letters of my name. His eyes widened by the smallest of fractions, looking akin to a startled deer caught within the car lamps. And when the sight before him would not diminish, or fade, his brows contracted into a frown of discontent.

"You." He muttered, shaking his head ever so slightly in disbelief. "What are you…doing here?"

He did not get an answer, for the very same female I had been ready to dispatch, was shaking his arm with an almost violent manner. "It will not work. I can't make it work." She squawked. "They are not affected."

But Percival's eyes never strayed from mine, no matter how vehemently she attempted to engage his attention, or how close the fighting came to our little tête-à-tête. He merely removed his arm from her grasp, jostling her small frame to one side. Her deconstructed bouffant curls bobbed with the movement, as she sought to avoid the hungry eyes of the Volturi ravaging their way through the mass.

"Isabella?" He finally blundered out. "What are you doing…here?"

Very slowly, and against the wishes of my tight muscles, I stood straight from my crouch. Considering him with a barely concealed disdain. "I've come to sort out this mess." I replied.

"Mess?" He mirrored, with a scarily innocent intonation. "This is no mess…I've…I have succeeded." But for all the tales he spun, he didn't sound so sure.

"Succeeded?" I responded with a coy smile. "You've created an abomination; not only have you broken the fundamental laws, but your actions have dragged me from my coven."

"They've brought you here?" He questioned rhetorically. "Don't you see, they have no right to lord over our kind? Stealing people-"

I chuckled out a laugh that did not seem entirely of my own accord, and encompassed a horrid amount of sardonic motion. "Says you." I muttered.

The small female that had been trying to shield herself from the fight, was suddenly plucked from Percival's shadow, and I watched with slight satisfaction as she became enthralled within a one-sided fight with Afron. I did not see the outcome, for they were both lost in the mass, but I presumed it was favourable.

"I presumed you would be killed." I told him honestly. "In fact I had hoped it most earnestly."

For the first time since our initial meeting, he displayed another emotion, bar the bland stupor he had been encompassed within. And his face contorted into a twisted furor, fists clenching, and lip curling. "You are with _them_." He spat.

"Only because you have chosen to pick a foolish fight." I shot back. "You have become deluded with ideas of grandeur."

"Have you failed to notice? That we are killing off members of your _invincible_ guard." He gloated.

"And for every _one_ you have killed….how many have we? Ten? Twenty? More?" I declared with a saccharine tone, my special brand of condescension for such events as these. "The odds are not within your favour-"

My tirade upon his stupidity was curtailed as I became the target of a passing aggression, and had to turn my attentions away from him, to stop the jaws that were suddenly clamped onto my forearm. But once then having pried the teeth from my flesh; and gone one step further in slaying the biting force, I was aggrieved to find Percival having sleuthed away from the scene.

That should have been the last instance that we ever saw of each other. Because one of us, or maybe both, would undoubtedly be killed within these desert plains. Yet having known him, having created him, and he being the very reason I was here, it seemed almost justified that I would be the one to kill him…or in turn he me.

So after him I darted, voiding the onslaught of bodies, grabbing hands, and all manner of butchery. Trying to extend my shield and finding something familiar, something that would identify his whereabouts within this chaos. But there were too many bodies, and subsequently too many minds to have any success. So I had to resort to fruitless searching, running in seemingly endless directions, trying to find one single person within an onslaught of beings.

It was on the odd occasion I was able to identify a member of the guard, but satisfyingly each time I did, they seemed to be massacring everyone in sight.

I did not, however, expect to come across Caius, very much alone, and fighting off at least four newborns with almost unrivalled skill. Seeing as he had not noticed me in the fray, I would have simply passed by and wished him luck in his endeavours, but once again I found myself entwined within someone else's problem. For approaching at some speed -and with an assured and determined look upon her pale face- was a rather well-balanced kind of being.

Her raven curls were awash with all manner of debris, and her once pretty blouse now nothing but a soiled mass of torn fabric. But despite the unruly and ordinary look about her, she lacked the vision of bloodlust that the newborns had, and merely perturbed something of a more articulate animosity. I had the distinct impression she was not one to consider as an idle and passing threat, her narrow calculating eyes, and adeptness about the creatures around her was enough for me to think twice.

But closer and closer she came towards Caius, at an angle, and at a speed that would surely take him off guard.

And so came my next great moral dilemma. To interject, or not to interject.

He was most probably going to be killed; even such a great fighter could not fight a horde of newborns, as well as such a sweeping attack from behind. I wouldn't feel any kind of remorse if he died, maybe a fleeting consideration that I could have prevented it…but I was sure that would quickly pass.

But he was fighting three vampires already. They would obliviously prevail upon his death, and probably go off to look for another Volturi member, or me. So it was with great misfortune that implementation was strategically the best thing to do, and with all hopes of finding Percival put to one side, I moved with an almost loathsome pace towards the woman.

Intercepting her path with the utmost unwillingness, and really hoping this would be relatively painless.

Her claret eyes widened only by a mere fraction at the sight of my sudden appearance, and then quickly narrowed once more into tiny slits. Never once slowing or adjusting her run to try and avoid me, but continuing on with an alarming pace. Her body approached with intimidating grace, moving across the desert like she had been born from it. It dawned quite quickly that the initial praises I had given her were severely underrated, and very much belittled, consequently leaving me to believe this was very much a mistake.

The weight of her body slammed against mine, and twisted away before I could grasp onto anything. And before I was able to react with any kind of defence, my legs were wiped clean from under me, and to the ground I tumbled. It was only the outward thrust of my leg that kept her at bay, and my neck safe from her snapping teeth. It was short lived for this being was nimble; there was no falter in her step. Very suddenly I found myself on the defensive, doing everything in my power to dodged and parry the blows.

I only managed to stop a successful lunge by slamming my hand thenar into her mouth; she bit down regardless and managed to sink her teeth into the fleshy webbing. Her preoccupied mouth was enough for me to finally get in my own hit, and with a rather brazen strike, I grabbed her raven tendrils and pulled downwards. The great clump of hair that I had grabbed did not tear from her scalp, but instead the force of my yank was enough to send her to the deck.

She growled out a string of insults; throwing out her limbs in a violent spasm and hitting my legs with her erratic movements. The force buckled my knees, and soon we were enthralled within a scramble on the red sands. Swapping a tirade of blows and bites; trying to keep her at arm's length and away from making that finishing strike.

But she managed to pin me down, sitting heavily on my torso, with her hands curling around my biceps. Leaving me to uselessly flounder beneath her, and trying everything in my power to free myself from her hold. As if responding to the hype in my panicking emotions, I felt the retraction of my defences, as it snapped back into place. While my reflexes tried everything within their power to protect myself, I could only think of a list of profanities that Emmett had taught me.

And how I really didn't want to die.

She considered me with a vicious smile, a toothy smirk of condescension, and subsequently lunged for my throat. It was only the turn of my neck that prevented her from a fluid success, but her teeth did pierce the thick muscles near my collar bone. The sting of the venom was instantaneous; it burnt solidly within the area, before traveling through the flesh and raging like fire. Even with the renewed strength of self-preservation, it seemed nothing could remove her teeth from my neck.

The gamed was reaching its end, and it was clear I was not going to finish a victor. Going home was not an option.

Her teeth only got deeper, closer and closer to the end point. Where I began to almost anticipate the outcome, and ready myself for that final yank.

But when it came, it was nothing like I had expected…almost too soon.

There was a pain, a sharp pain, and a tearing sensation. But then the weight of her body was suddenly gone, and she was no longer in my peripheral vision. Instead, as I turned to look above, there was nothing but the sky; the passing sand storm and stitching of azure betwixt the clouds. My hand was quick in finding the pain, and upon touching my neck found a savage and beastly kind of wound.

It took some moments for any kind of control to return, and rather weakly did I find my feet, holding onto the wound while it healed. Scoping out the scene, while trying to make sense of what had happened. I did not, however, expect to see her being confined within the vice like grips of Percival, as he struggled to hold onto her convulsing body.

Be it the buring in the side of my neck, of the number of hits I had taken today, but I was beginning to question this whole situation.

"Kill her." He growled at me, continuing to fight with her jostling figure.

"Siding with the Volturi now, Percy. I thought we had an agreement?" The female baited in a thick Spanish intonation, stilling her movements. "But just who is this little female? With such strange eyes?"

"Kill her." He growled again, the raw urgency and need in his tone was almost guttural. "You need to kill her."

I could barely collect together a coherent thought, but just watched this on-going duologue with inconceivable confusion. Wondering just what it was I was witnessing.

"Isabella." He hollered out my name, frantically trying to keep a tight hold on the female. "She's the reason we are all here, she and her band of fucking merry men are the cause of everything. Don't you see? Kill her and we've succeeded."

"Well, well, as I live and breathe." Maria smirked towards me. "I, and all the others who walk the deserts, were under the impression you were dead. _Horace's whore,_ and ultimately his undoing."

I bristled at the vulgar nickname, a fictitious designation that should have died in the sands. But very suddenly the female before me became so much more than a mere vision, and I could thusly recall all the horrific things she had accomplished. Be it myth or not.

"How the mighty have fallen." She taunted. "You have become a lowly Volturi lackey."

"And yet, I find myself quite content with the side I am on." I replied, gathering up some dignity, and collecting together some wit. "Rather the devil's right hand."

"Isabella." Percival rumbled out a warning once again, his hold barely constraining her.

"But now, do indulge me." I wondered aloud. Removing my hand from the wound, as the mess of skin beneath my palm began to stitch itself together. "An alliance with the Romanian's, I pegged you impertinent, but not a fool."

Her face contorted into a spiteful twist. "We." She spat. "Did not have a choice."

"My, my, how the mighty have fallen." I taunted with the utmost satisfaction. "A lowly Romanian lackey." My words seemed to have the desired effect, and she slipped with adept grace from Percival's arms, kicking him to the ground with ease, before heading straight towards me. I readied myself, crouching squarely, flexing my fingers, and snapping my teeth. Calculating the best way to get past her quick hands, and avoid a repeat of the previous outcome.

But before she could even get within touching distance, a right side force took her to the ground with an explosive hit. And I bore witness to Caius making a grand return. Pulling her apart before she could even scream in protest. A terrible, and yet ultimately satisfying occurrence.

Then with his foot still holding down the remnants of her torso, he turned to me amongst the chaos, stating a simple: "Even."

And I could only nod in understanding; for Caius clearly was not one for 'I owe yous.'

But no sooner had he tossed the body parts within an increasingly savage fire, did another vampire present themselves as his opponent, and back into the clouds of sand and violet smoke, did I lose him. His disappearance as sudden as his appearance. Off to do other strange deeds, as the protagonist of his own story.

"Isabella." The antagonist to my own little plight, called sparsely.

"What have you done?" I mused with a shake of the head, the rage I had towards him seemed to simmer as pity. "All this trouble. Just who is your enemy?"

His blank face was a testament to the turmoil in his eyes. "It doesn't feel like the end." He said ambiguously. "But I know it is…because I think I've lost sight of what all this is for." His hands waved uselessly towards the carnage. "It was all planned. We couldn't possibly fail."

"Seems like you have no idea what you're doing. How did it come to this? Wasn't the original plan just to kill Maria?" I replied. My physical recovery allowing the first tentative shield to resonate outwards into the mists, finding those I was familiar with. "She's dead now. You, well technically Caius, have succeeded there."

"When success is assured, it is easy to go along with anything. We had such plans, such powers on our side…and look what they came to…a fucking pointless massacre." He shook his head, and gave a fruitless snort. "I think I am finally battle weary. It has just come far too late for me."

We were enclosed fully with the bellows of the purple smoke, seemingly hiding from the rest of the battle, or what battle was left. It was hot here, the fire extremely close, and not many newborns drifted this far near the blaze.

"I never did ask." He began tentatively. "Why are your eyes such a strange colour?"

"Is this quite the right time?" I replied.

"As best as any, I don't think we shall meet again." He responded bluntly, a strange bygone humour came through in his words.

He was right, from what I could hear the battle was dying, and our triumph was most probably assured. "I don't hunt humans anymore. But animals instead." I informed.

"Animals, eh? Sounds pretty disgusting." Came the usual response.

"It is." I confirmed. "But…things have changed." I explained vaguely, studying the sheer number of additional scars that now littered my flesh. "My coven leader says, we should look to have mercy upon others. And I wish I could have mercy upon you, tell you to run. But it is that kind of mercy that would put my coven in jeopardy."

"Your leader sounds like a pretty good person, but that kind of sentiment wouldn't last a minute out here." He said with a curious chuckle. "Now running…that sounds like a good plan. Better odds, maybe? Certain death, or perhaps death? Occurrence permitting, I'll see you on the other side, Isabella."

I could only watch in utter astonishment as he turned swiftly, gave me a lopsided salute, and disappeared into the smoke. Heading directly towards the source of the screaming, and undoubtedly certain death. I did not allow my mind to follow his moves, just hoped earnestly that his death had been relatively swift.

Leaving me to fight with a sense of melancholy, and the horrid bout of relief. Relief that I had not been the one with the task to end his life, because I questioned my own ability. Maybe his odds would have been better in a fight against me.

The dysphoria made killing my final two victims a blandness haze; and I barely recalled losing my boot along the way. But soon enough, those who remained standing stood stoic, and the churning sands calmed. Leaving behind the victors, or what was left of them.

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><p><em>AN: Done. I have really got to stop living nocturnal hours. Anyway, please review._


	87. Chapter Eighty Six: Revertetur

_A/N: Hey all, thanks for the patient wait. I am currently enthralled within a heap of dissertation work, and attempting to figure out where to do my master's degree. But much appreciative of all the reviews, they have certainly forced my hand down to write, I'd surely become idle without. For the time being I think updates may come every ten days or so, but that should ease up over the Christmas break, and they hopefully should become weekly once again. Also thanks to those still joining the story, even now so far along, love to have you all. _

_Amineh1825: Indeed we shall see who has lived to see another day, and of course Bella's journey home. Hope you enjoy both. Thanks for the feedback._

_46 Husbands Later: I'm kind of ready to write the Cullen's back in, I didn't realise it had been so many chapters since they last featured. I really do miss them. Thanks for reviewing._

_Holidai: I'm so glad you liked it, trying to end the chapter/battle was difficult, I did write a couple of endings and choose the best one. Maria…I was keen to have her enthralled somewhere, and undoubtedly killed off. Seemed like the end of an era. For some reason I had this strange image of Caius and his inner monologue, one where he's the hero/crime fighter. It made me chuckle so I added it in. Looking forward to writing the reunion, hope you enjoy reading. And thanks for reviewing. _

_viola1701e: A few more scars to add to the collection. Yep, Maria and the Romanian's have been destroyed, factors did not fall in their favour. I'm sure when Bella and Jasper finally get around to discussing their similar pasts, it will be a relief to know Maria is dead. I like to think Caius is firm but fair. Thanks for leaving a review._

_reader346: I miss the Cullen's too, but it has been a necessary mission of independence. Luckily they should be returning soon. Thanks for the feedback. _

_CullenBoy123: Thanks for reviewing once again, and I'm really happy to know you liked the chapter. The girl with Percival, I nicknamed Abby (no idea why) and I kind of imagined her to have some kind gift relating to perception, the ability to disorientate her enemies. It would have been quite a powerful gift, as she had no real fighting skills, and merely relied on it to aid her. Something along those lines. _

_Guest: Oh thank you so much! You're too kind. Hope you enjoy the next chapter. _

_Vxgt: Yes, Maria is indeed dead, torn to pieces by Caius. I'm sure Jasper will have some very strong feelings regarding that matter, but all shall be revealed. Thanks for reviewing. _

_Anat: Welcome, welcome! Thank you so much for such lovely comments, you really made my week. The compliments on my characters always get to me, I have really developed such a soft spot for them. I always wanted to have a strong, slightly askew, lead character, so thanks for recognising that. Bella and Rosalie will always have that competitive relationship, but I think that is very natural for a sisterly bond (and of course they like to keep each other in line!) Relationships, were pretty much the reason I was so enthralled by Twilight, I loved how all these different people found their way to each other. So I wanted to explore how that came to be. I'm sure Bella and Jasper swapping their pasts will be quite a key event, it will be the first time there will be another person who properly understands, and undoubtedly that could cause friction. As for George…well he'll be making a reappearance later on. Thank so much for the review, lovely to hear from you. _

_Just Another Fan: I hope you have been able to access when this story was last updated, if not…I guess this is a clue. Updates are usually every ten days or so, at the moment. And after coming so far, I have no intention of stopping. Thanks for reviewing, hope you enjoy future chapters._

_That Twilight Lover 3: Done. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the right to The Twilight Saga. _

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><p><span>Chapter Eighty Six: Revertetur<span>

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The wind that had been so frivolous in blowing a gale, all but died with a final great whip of the air, sending the bellowing curls of oddly coloured smoke climbing high into the sky. The silence was then only permeated by the cracking and popping of the fire, as it ate away at the bodily remains, and destroyed any incriminating evidence of our visit. And we -those who had not become fuel for the fire- could only watch on, wondering how close we had come to having our immortality cut short.

Across the plains there lingered a silence, and as the minutes spanned it became all the more fragile, until the air hung heavy with tension, and begged for the release of a voice. But it came as a very tempered proposition, and everyone seemed keen to gather together their wits and dignity, before speaking a word.

Then slowly, the surviving members of the guard gravitated into little groups, and murmurs finally drifted across the desert. Each conversation seemed to ask the same trivial questions; perhaps it was the sheer shock of the situation that stipulated language.

I found myself still engaged next to the fire, every so often being engulfed by the smoke and ash, but could not find the means to break away. There lingered waves of constricting melancholy, and disbelief that could not be shifted, no matter how much logic I tried to apply. It was a physiological glitch, an ache of the mind, a pain that matched the physical pains of my flesh. No matter how much I willed myself to move, my body refused to do my bidding.

It was only a hand upon my shoulder that awoke me from my stupor, and I could not help but startle under the touch. The fingers curled ever so slightly on contact, but remained feather light, and the owner stood an open distance away. Their excessively tall figure was enough to cast a long shadow across me, and put an end to the defective shine I was giving out.

"You're alive." Marcus stated in the plainest of intonations, the declaration was neither spoken in surprise, or in question, just a true observation.

"Yes." I supplied in return, overcoming the thickness in my throat. "I suppose I am."

His hand dropped from my shoulder, returning back to his side and matching his usual stoic stance. But I noted almost immediately upon turning to address him, how very strange he looked. It took a moment for me to realise the issue, and just what had happened to alter his appearance so much.

The jet cloak which I had always known to hang heavy on his frame, was gone.

And as I took in the other scattering of guard it seemed to be a recurring theme, cloaks were gone, missing, or now mere scraps of fabric about the shoulders. For the first time they failed to look like their namesake, and more like a real coven. Grouping together in support of one another. Hands upon shoulders, picking debris out of one another's hair, and even swapping their experiences.

But there would always an exception, and it was those who fell into this category that looked out of place now. Standing in their own little huddle of perfection, still very much cloaked, and in the order they arrived, was Aro and his entourage. Renata to his immediate right, and the witch duo to the left. Looked only mildly ruffled from their experiences.

Even Caius; and his personal adventure as the hero, had taken a fair beating.

The very sight of Aro and his almost impeccable persona, was enough to make me coil in contempt, and even looking upon him brought about the twinge of bitter distaste. But he knew nothing, and seemed ideally keen to round up the surviving members of his guard, and a good deal relieved to find his most important members still living. And then, as if the thought suddenly came to mind, he seemed to search the landscape, ebony eyes flitting across the sands. Until they came to rest in our direction.

He seemed to find relief when he came upon Marcus and I -most probably relief at the former surviving- but nonetheless made his way across the scorching fathoms towards us. The hem of his cloak billowing pretentiously behind him.

But with the enemy now reduced to nothing but ash on the wind, this alliance was now done, finished and broken. Home was possible and staying to listen to him tattle and fawn was not a priority, so I started towards him. An uneven walk, because of a lost shoe, and decidedly unpleasant because my wounds were still sewing themselves back together. Regardless to his surprise or hesitance towards my advance, he still neared. And we met in the middle.

"You don't know how much it relieves me to see you well." He said, his lips pulling into a smile that never reached his eyes. His hands -that usually ventured in search of a secret- never strayed from their tight clasp at his torso.

My lips struggled to form any words, and there lingered a long painful silence after his declaration. But while my mouth made no sounds, my mind ran rampant with a horde of scathing and bitter remarks. Nothing was quite suitable to fill the void, so a generic response seemed the best option.

"I too am pleased to find my…fragility very much intact." Came my rather aloof reply, unconsciously running the tips of my fingers along the new scars. "But I'll be going home now."

My direct statement seemed to take him a little off guard; but quite frankly I was past the point of polite chatter.

"Naturally…naturally." He nodded to himself. "You must be keen to get back to your coven."

"Naturally." I mirrored, fighting the urge to clink my teeth together at his sheer audacity. But instead I gathered together the very last of my strength, stood as tall as I could manage, and strode across the sands. Battling against the muscles that so desired to run, to put a good distance between myself and this terrible nightmare.

"Isabella?" Aro drawled my name aloud.

I did not trust myself to reply, because there was a scream lodged in the back of my throat. So I merely slowed my walk to indicate I was listening. And for one moment, one single instance, I wondered if he would have the temerity to request my membership into the guard. Because I would surely shriek if he did.

"My regards to you." He said somewhat graciously. "And to the rest of the Cullen coven. May we ever stand allies."

I could only offer a nod in response, swallowing back the thickness that had developed, and the deep burn within my chest. The only saving grace was the faithful return of my shield. Back where it belonged, and giving me the protection I very much craved.

Never once did I look back, but bolted off in an uncharted direction, not caring in the slightest to where I was heading. It didn't matter, just as long as I was away from the desert, and trying at least to return home.

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><p>The ground was scorching beneath my feet, and the temperature continued to rise well into the afternoon. So hot it became, that the rubber sole of my single boot melted, and each step became laboured with debris. And when it finally gave way, and the sole came away from its tacks, I parted from my boot, and left it to the ravages of the desert.<p>

It smelt like burning, like warmth and salt. Without even a breath of wind, the air remained stagnant with the heat. There was little cover to be had, perhaps the occasional Acacia tree dotting the landscape, low lying shrubs, but nothing that could protect me from the sun. It beat down with an unrivalled ferocity, and made my skin shine with an almost painful light.

Regardless to the shortcomings of the surroundings, I followed the sun's positioning with an obsessive watch, roughly trying to gage its path to the horizon, and plot my journey north west. Made even harder as hour after hour, there was not a single distinguishing featured on the landscape. I tried to follow dirt tracks, in the hopes that they would bring me near to a town. Wait till nightfall, and perhaps acquired a map from somewhere. But the tracks never seemed to have a destination, just continuing onwards, towards nothingness.

I lost count of the number of hills, crags, and ranges I had scaled. At the top of each one was nothing but a panoramic view of desert, mountains, and surprisingly more desert.

Yet in a strange turn of events, it was the next views of desert that finally gave me indication to a location. Upon passing through a valley of particularly craggy ranges, and being forced to scale something monstrous, I finally came to the view. To my left hand side, and stretching out to the edges of the visible world, was nothing but pure tan sand. Dunes upon dunes of uninterrupted purity, with almost no greenery in sight.

Considering the direction of travel, estimated length of the journey, and the sheer barren landscape, I summed that this was El Pinacate. Part of the Sonoran Desert, and just below the border with Arizona. If I continued on the way I was going, I would pass just east of Los Angeles.

With the sun now gradually plummeting due westwards, I could only reassure myself that my pace would surely quicken under the guise of darkness. And promise myself better hunting opportunities across the border.

Never once, not in all the hours I travelled did I really stop. I ran constantly, over the mountains, across the desert, even hunting was done with a speedy effectiveness. And for all the miles I travelled, the one and only constant thought was that of returning home. Getting back to the house, seeing my family, seeing my husband. My mind refused to dwell on what had happened, putting a stop to the memories, trying to pretend it had never happened. But the more I ignored the issue, the more and more it began to fester, and the weight that lay upon my chest got ever heavier.

The thickness that had been stuck constantly in my throat now seemed to grow in size. And gradually I unintentionally began to slow; my legs felt weaker and seemed to shake under some strain. It was not a completely alien feeling, but never before had it happened under the current circumstances. So great were the effects that my coordination began to suffer, and eventually I could do nothing but stop to regain my strength.

I paused somewhere within the depths of the Californian forests, leaning up against rough bark to avoid the spitting rainfall. But no matter how much I tried to swallow away the thickness, and stretch my legs to void the shaking, nothing seemed to work.

So, in the hopes of a distraction, and for the first time I was able to consider my own disposition. The image I presented was hardly pretty or impressive.

Around my torso wrapped the remnants of a blouse I had brought in a Macy's sale. It held about my shoulders, but both sleeves were missing, and it just about covered my brassiere. My jodhpurs resembled long shorts; I had no shoes, only one sock, and little recollection to the fate of my coat. The snarls of my hair were knotted, falling from their braid, and embedded with all manner of dirt.

I tried to fix my hair at least, run my hands through the strands, and find a degree of normality. But nothing could rid my hair of the knots, or remove the sand. No matter how many times I repeated the motion. It became the sheer frustration of the moment that made me angry, foolishly pulling at my hair as if that would solve the problem. It didn't. And the growl of irritation burst forth as a sob of tribulation.

Going forth as an uncontrollable bout of sobbing, mourning more than the mere state of my hair, but the entire happenings of the last couple of days. I cried a tearless horror. And the more I relived the events, the more and more I struggled to rein in my loss of control. Impeaching the credibility of my usually nonplussed emotions. I fought with a tumultuous onslaught, as finally my quelled emotions caught up in a great flood. And I was cursed to suddenly re-live all the events.

I'm sure I resembled a pitiful sight, having a strange emotional mishap, with limbs that seemed unable to support my weight, and shook like leaves. All I could do was cowered up against the tree, not daring to move or breathe, hoping for the heaving to subside. Wondering how my life had come to this. The unbelievable situation became imaginable, and my mind seemed fixed on reliving all those moments in which I had come so close to death. Those moments were truly terrifying, and without adrenaline to cast them aside, came with all their brutal horror.

I had come so close to death; only now was my mind catching up and processing this information.

Time seemed to cease all together, and I lost all sense of duration. Not helped by the nearly impenetrable darkness. It was only the dripping of the rain and the sound of my haggard breaths that spanned any great age, and I summed that I had paused for quite some time. Verified later by a great glow along the eastern horizon. A warm light that grew and spread ever wider, until it was clear the dawn was upon me.

The sun's weak morning rays eventually found their way through the forest canopy, and then managed to seek me out from my hiding place. The sky that had been so overcast during the night, was now clear, a brilliant blue, and seemingly void of any clouds.

I wondered if my family were viewing the same halcyon sky this morning; no doubt Rosalie would be whining about having to stay indoors. Amazingly, I even found myself missing her usual _delightful _countenance. I must have taken one too many strikes to the head.

Eventually, when the thoughts of my near impending doom subsided, and turned into judging the possibility of returning home by midday, I attempted to unfurl myself. Stretching out coiled muscles that had been idle for a long period, and glad to find the weakness had subsided. From a first few hesitant steps, I regained my agility and fell into a natural run.

Determined to pretend there had been no such malfunction in my emotions, everything was fine and dandy.

With a clear destination now at the forefront of my mind, as well as lacking the haziness of pent up emotions, I made a good deal of progress. By midday the land beneath my feet became familiar. I passed along the hunting trails we frequently used, through the cliff side forests, close enough to the edge to hear the sound of breaking waves against the shore. The air was clean and fresh, such a difference from the humidity of the desert, and altogether much easier to breathe.

I knew these coastlines well, travelled along them numerous times, played cricket with Emmett in the sands, even attempted to drown Edward on several occasions. I knew just how far the house was from this point. The mile and a half was possibly the longest of my existence, the stretch of coppice seemed much deeper than I recalled. With haste I abandoned the ability to dodge flora and ploughed through everything. Trampling shrubbery, knocking down saplings, and generally being incredibly destructive.

It was only when coming across one particular grouping of pines that I stopped, because these, and all others from this point forward were within the property boundary. Meaning, I had finally made it home.

The slate roof was just visible over the tree tops, followed by the clusters of chimneys, and the squeaky weathervane that still had not been repaired. Every step brought me closer, gracing me with the chance to fully appreciate the slowly appearing house, unfurling from the trees. Until finally the coppice ended and the perfectly manicured lawn gave way to the house.

It was strange how a mere building could entice such strong feelings, but I supposed it came down to the people one shared a home with, and the memories that enticed.

But at this very moment there didn't seem to be anyone around, there were no voices, or the usual prattle that came between family members. Just a strange eerie void, nothing but the call of the birds and the rustling wind.

I found myself approaching the back of the house, passing along the paved path and towards the glass orangery. Walking carefully around the flowerbeds, and up towards the back porch. Yet before reaching my destination, there came a great dim of shattering glass from inside, sending the birds soaring from the gables, and cawing in fright. Then in almost an explosive manner, Esme was suddenly upon the white wash decking. Almost stumbling in her haste, wrapping her hand around the porch gallows in support.

"I-Isabella." She spluttered in apparent surprise.

Before I could even confirm my appearance, she was already upon me, enveloping us both in a tight embrace. "I'm back." I managed to breathe.

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><p><em>AN: Thanks for all the great support for the last chapters, and sorry about the wait for this one. Please do leave a review. _


	88. Chapter Eighty Seven: Amicus

_A/N: Hello my lovelies. Sorry about the wait, I've been swamped with work and cramming for my crime scene evidence walk through. Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter, I am absolutely delighted with the feedback, you guys are so great. Also hello and thanks to everyone who has placed the story on alert, or favoured it, welcome to the ongoing saga. _

_Holidai: I'm very happy to have her home, and I'm delighted to know you approved of the journey back. I think grief can take time for some people to digest, and seeing as Bella is quite a private person it seemed like a good time to write a bit of emotion. Where are the others? All shall be explained. Thanks for reviewing._

_vxgt: Thanks for reviewing. It took a while before I decided it had to be Esme… there's something about coming home to your mum that makes things all better. Oh I get homesick all the time, I live quite far from my home town and it's too expensive to take regular trips home. So I do miss it quite a bit, especially around the holidays. _

_viola1701a: I don't think Aro wanted to let Bella go. But he has to consider the ramifications of keeping her hostage, eventually the Cullen's would find out, they are a big coven with a lot of alliances…the Volturi are powerful, but without political power they would struggle to keep control. I think it would be best to keep the Cullen's onside. The family will undoubtedly be glad to have her back. Thanks so much for reviewing. _

_emily volturi: Thanks for the feedback, I'm happy to have Bella back, I've missed writing about her and the family. _

_46 Husbands Later: Thanks for reviewing once again, I'm very excited about the reunion. We need a little happiness. _

_demilovato4eva: Oh thank you so much, you are too kind. Sorry for keeping you waiting. Hope you enjoy._

_Reader346: Thank you very much for such a lovely comment. _

_Amineh1825: Thanks for reviewing._

_Anat: I'm delighted that I can finally write her at home, I've really missed all the family interactions. As for Alice and her visions, it's going to be an interesting one. I like to think the Volturi are thinking politically, they need to keep a large coven like the Cullen's onside. Even though they kidnapped her, they allowed Bella to leave…it's a strategic move. But you never know, they could make a comeback. Oh goodness, my Latin is so rusty, I have to apologise in advance. I've really considered changing the chapter titles to English…but that will take forever. Thanks so much for the review, lovely to hear from you. _

_ 1234: Thank you for reviewing. I had to stop because it was the end of the chapter…and because I'm a sucker for a cliffy. _

_BadassEri90: Oh my days, you are absolutely brilliant. I saw this review and it really did make my week. I'm so sorry for causing you grey hairs, and making you wait. You are always so kind in your reviews, making me blush so much. And you never bore me, I love reading about your escapades. I'm trying my best to get these out as quickly as possible, and hopefully (come the Christmas holidays) even faster updates. Thanks once again for such a fantastic review._

_CullenBoy123: Yay, finally she has returned home! Thanks for reviewing._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Eighty Seven: Amicus<span>

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...

..

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Her arms were wrapped tightly around my neck, gripping and holding us together, my chin resting snug against the curve of her shoulder, as she continued to embrace me. "Where have you been?" Esme whispered. "We've been so worried." She pulled away ever so slightly, enough for her to gage a real view of me. Noting the state of my clothes, seeing the dirt upon my body, and understandably the sheer number of mars. "Where… have you been?" She said again, her unsteady tenor and slightly widened eyes reflected the apparent distress of her realisation.

_Where had I been?_ It seemed impossible to give a direct answer, to fully explain and make her understand what had happened. "I've…been away." I began, looking straight into her concerned gaze. "Somewhere terrible…that is to say, the situation, not the place. Although the place wasn't so great either…Where is everyone?"

Esme looked confused by my question, gripping onto my shoulders a little tighter. "They're all out looking for you." She stated plainly. "They've been searching for days. Ever since you went. I volunteered to stay here… in case you came back."

"Good job you did." I tried to joke, but it failed short and sounded painful to even my ears.

"God." She blurted out suddenly. "I'm so glad you're safe." And proceeded to grip my shoulders even tighter. "I'm so glad you're home."

"Me too." I assured. "So very glad…"

"Come on." She said decisively, returning from her supposed stupor and taking control. "Let's go inside. There's lots of hot water, should you want to go take a bath."

"I'd like that." I confirmed with a nod, taking a great deal of comfort from her never wavering support. "I feel I'm more dirt than flesh at the moment."

With arms linked she guided me up the porch steps, holding open the backdoor and allowing me first entrance. The kitchen opened up around me, flagstone floor, pristine granite counter tops, and the immediate smell of lemon and lavender washing soap.

She bustled by me as I surveyed the surroundings, quickly sweeping away the shards of glass that had once been a cake platter; merely for show, and now in multiple pieces. "I was never overly fond of this one." She stated, duping the dustpan full of shards into the bin. "So surprised to see you, the thing just jumped from my hands."

"I thought I heard something break." I replied, tracing my hands along the smooth granite. "Sorry to surprise you, should have probably used the front door."

"No, no." Esme shook her head vehemently. "Don't be silly, it was the best kind of surprise. A stupid cake platter doesn't matter, they are easily replaceable…you are not." She was quick to assure me the case was so, and I could only give her a small smile of thanks. Trying my best to dispel her fears and appear the vision of happiness, hiding away the haunting.

"Well." I eventually responded with a small clap. "Let me go clean myself up, I feel I'm dragging dirt all through the house. And my hair is more a matted mess than actual snarls, I must look positively wild." Toying with the torn hem of my shirt, and trying to gain control over my quivering lips.

"Alright." She acknowledged, patting my arm reassuringly. "Let me know if you need anything."

"I will."

From the stone flooring my feet came across an equally smooth and cold surface, the standard checker marble of the hall, taking me from the servants' side of the house towards the masters. As I walked the familiar staircase, it really seemed like an age had passed since I had last descended the steps, like entire years had span between leaving to play baseball in the storm, and this very moment. But everything in the house was exactly like I had left it, from the slight scuff on the landing wall –where Emmett had knocked into it- to the scent of freshly washed towels, as I reached to pull one down from the linen closet.

It was the familiarity that settled the tightness in my chest, and helped soothe the quiver of my lips. But the pacifying feelings that had descended were seemingly short lived, for the sight of myself in the bathroom mirror was enough to make me recoil in dismay.

_A mess,_ was a despairing understatement. There lingered a moment where I struggled to find myself in the reflection, for the image it produced did not look real. The person before me looked unruly and wild, with skin mottled with dirt, and rags for clothes. Her hair curled and knotted like a nest. She looked tired; the circles around her eyes were hues of purple, deep set and haunting. This vagabond of the wilderness looked out of place against the pristine tiles of the bathroom. Normally one would cast such a creature a look of pity, perhaps a gaze of superiority at such an uncouth savagery.

So the roll-top began to fill with a tumultuous cascade of near boiling water, its steam quickly filling the room and condensing upon the mirror. Slowly I watched as the dirty girl disappeared, until she was merely a murky silhouette behind the steam, and eventually gone from view. I took the opportunity to shed the remnants of my clothing, tossing them with little care into the corner. Slowly and with a degree of unneeded caution I stepped into the porcelain tub, sitting in the accumulating water as it settled in the bottom quarter.

There seemed little point having it any deeper, for the moment my skin came into contact with the water it blossomed out a ripple of tan. The more and more I scrubbed my skin, the darker and scummier the water became, until I had to draw yet another bath. Consecutively I had to fill it with fresh water, cleansing my filthy flesh, before finally tackling the chaos of hair. It took multiple washes, palm fulls of floral smelling Prell shampoo and endless brushing, before a fine toothed comb would run through it smoothly.

While I was decidedly elated to be free from the confines of the dregs; and my new found ability to take advantage of a hot bath, clean skin also brought with it the unfortunate issue of viewing new defects. Some had healed quite well; almost indistinguishable against the pallor of my hues, but others…others were bad. Perfect imprints of teeth, of slicing, and chewing, short and long tracks of silver skin. I looked upon them with a clinical view, perhaps a little detached…_a few more was of little consequence. _

The same could not be said for the sight that greeted me upon exiting the bath.

I had dried my skin, patted my hair dry, washed away the residue from the tub, and opened the window a little to allow the steam out. The influx of cold air cleared the mirrors with an almost immediate effect, and while braiding my damp hair I bore witness to the worst of the damage. For all the bites that had succeeded against my defences, it was the one that had come close to ending my life that remained the worst. Long drawn out teeth marks, deep set and jagged.

My fingers traced the skin, skimming over the smooth flesh, never hindered by any scar tissue, but touching the memory of the marks. Reliving an event best forgotten and cursing the being who was now, thankfully, dead.

Not only had my pride been battered, but there was a dent in my narcissistic vanity, and I wondered how long it would be before I could accept these new flaws.

"Isabella." There came a slight knock at the bathroom door.

I tightened my robe around my waist, clawing my hair forward and trying my best to hide the worst of the mess about my neck. "I haven't used all the hot water, have I?" I joked opening the door.

"No, not at all." Esme assured. "I hope I didn't disturb you?" She was quick to question.

"Nope, all done." I replied, gesturing to my robed self. "Nice and clean, hair looking slightly less…disgusting."

"You look much better." She said, fixing me with a reassuring smile. "Did you want me to get rid of those clothes?"

"Thanks, I was going to burn them, but seeing as I've just bathed….the smoke and soot."

"I was heading off to hunt anyway, I can take the bins out on my way out." She said, her eyes ghosting over my neck but never lingering. "I shan't be too long, will you be okay?"

"Sure, I'll be fine." I waved away her worry. "You go hunt, I have a list of things I need to do. No doubt the post has accumulated."

"Indeed, there were quite a few things that came yesterday…I put them on the desk in the library. Ready for when you came back."

"Thank you, Esme." I could not help but reach out and grip her hand. "Thank you for taking care of things. I'm really glad you're here...just you for now. I just needed a little… quiet moment, just time to gather myself together, before explaining everything…before seeing everyone." I rambled on.

She gave my hand a squeeze. "I understand."

It was enough to soothe my unease, and she parted with my scraps in hand, off to hunt. While I progressed towards that little door at the far end of the hall, the one that opened to the strange hidden stairs, and up to the attic room. But the trepidation of entering into our room was shortly replaced with an unpleasant surprise, as I came face to face with the mess.

There were items of clothing strewn across the floor, multiple draws left open, and underfoot bits of plasterboard from several fist sized holes in the wall. I walked around the surrounding as if they were foreign, surveying the damage to the normally pristine room. It did not take a genius to put two and two together, this was our room, it was his clothes scattered haphazardly across the room, and I was almost assured those were his imprints in the wall.

I came to an uncomfortable conclusion, one that I had been so blithely ignoring in the hopes that it wouldn't exist. But I could be selfish no longer, there were two of us within this relationship, and I had been pitiful enough to believe everything would be alright when I got home. That we could just continue onwards, pretend it never happened. Yet the state of this room made everything uncomfortably clear.

I needed to make sure he knew I was all right, even if it was just a physical adequacy, perhaps then we could address the other issues.

So first I tidied, picking up all the items on the floor, folding them into the correct draws, and reuniting them with their designated hangers within the armoire. I brushed away the plaster from the floor, and cleaned away the dust particles from the surfaces it had fallen on. The holes would have to remain for the time being, until I could get into town and visit the hardware store.

Lastly, when I could clean no more, I set about gathering myself together, desiring the fortitude delivered by a well-constructed ensemble, and a neat countenance. Rigorously brushing out the length of hair, ridding it of the last of the knots, and pinning half of it back in a rather current up-do. I selected a tailored dress, something reinforced, with a high collar, and a strong resolve.

Mere material possessions may have not been able to solve the problems, but I felt better wrapped in something beautiful, more able to deal with the oncoming reunion, and more like myself.

With renewed vigour, and a gradually growing impatience to be reunited with my family, I sort out some trivial matters to take my mind from the aeons I was being forced to wait. The heap of post that had been dutifully sorted into a letter rack took no more than an hour to deal with, but as I finished, the house shook as someone violently slammed the door.

"Esme, we're back." A very familiar, but all together unexpected voice lilted loudly.

I panicked, no doubt eyes wide and a call stuck in my throat. Frozen half way through filing away some financial documents.

"She's probably gone out hunting." The second voice reasoned in a strikingly similar accent.

"Right, well let's just find a map." The first female voice sounded again. "We're wasting time."

I walked across the wooden floorboards with the utmost apprehension, and wondered what I could possibly say. There was an unwarranted anxiety that should not have been there…but this was no ordinary person, this was my oldest and dearest friend. A being I would kill for, and had done. We had once come to their aid, and thusly it seemed they had come to mine.

I moved quicker, and suddenly the anxiety was not due to fear, but of desperation. A need to confirm to these people I was alright. Tell them I was fine, still alive.

And suddenly I was in the hall. The late afternoon sun casting their shadows across the checker floor to my feet, as they stooped down to remove shoes.

"Hello." I called out, surprised the word had even formed correctly.

It needn't have mattered, the mere sound I made was enough, and in seconds they were before me. Looking at me like I was some kind of apparition, a specter in the hall.

"Isabella?" Irina questioned rather discombobulated, while her sister considered me wide-eyed and rather blankly.

"The one and only." I confirmed with a tepid smile, running my hands down the fabric of my dress.

The confirmation seemed to be enough because soon my hands were occupied with steadying myself, as Tanya all but launched herself at me. Arms almost strangling me with their force, wrapped tightly around my neck with little intention of letting go. There was a long silence, where no one even dared to breathe, I could only offer Irina a small smiled over Tanya's shoulder as the hug lengthened. But the notion was telling enough, for Tanya was never one to dole out hugs, and it was a great comfort to receive one.

"Where the fuck have you been." She muttered eventually from our entanglement. "We've been looking everywhere for you…halfway across the country, through so many bloody states." The ramble continued and she seemed unwilling to lax the embrace. "Everyone is freaking out, and Edward is so frantic with worry.

"He is?" I winced, the very notion made my heart ache.

"It didn't help that Alice was blind, couldn't see you at all. It was all black. She said that usually meant… that person was-" She seemed to struggle over the word, "dead."

"Shit." I muttered, feeling the tightness return to my chest. "Everyone thinks I'm dead?"

She pushed me back very suddenly, and it was only her hands grasping my shoulders that kept me upright. "No." Tanya told me. "Not for one second, you think I'm going to let some hoity-toity, voodoo freak tell me my friend is dead? No. Those two… those outsiders don't know you like the rest of us do."

"Do you know where everyone is?" I wondered. "Esme said you all went out two days ago, have you seen anyone since?"

"Not since then." Irina supplied. "We all split up into groups, went in different directions. But eventually they will have to come back, just like we did. It's just a case of waiting. "

"I guess I'll just have to be patient then." I replied rather defeated. "Who did Edward go with?"

"Kate and Garrett." Irina responded.

"Oh. Well that's something, I suppose. They are both rather level headed." I mumbled mainly to myself in comfort.

"That's what we thought." Tanya chimed in. "But anything would have been better than Jasper."

"Why? What's wrong with Jasper?" I wondered.

"He was convinced you were dead." Tanya stated bluntly.

"Tanya." Irina warned. "It wasn't like that, Bella. Jasper seems to be very…logical. And like you said they don't know you like we do…he must have thought the likely hood of someone going missing and surviving…very slim."

"He knows Edward can read minds." Tanya argued back. "Should have been careful with his _stray_ thoughts. Anyway there was a slight altercation-"

"Altercation?" I frowned. "Between Edward and Jasper."

"Tiny, over in a second." Irina interjected quickly. "Jasper apologised and we all went off in our separate directions. It will all be forgotten once they realise you are here and you're safe."

"Now." Tanya announced, already bored with the line of conversation. "I want to know what's happened, and who has done you wrong…for they are now atop my list."

* * *

><p><em>Sorry once again for the wait, I'm having to use sleeping time to write…but that's ok, I'll just have sleep time in the lecture theatre…or at work….is it already December? Last I recall it was Halloween.<em>

_Thanks for being so patience, you guys are awesome._


	89. Chapter Eighty Eight: Reconciliare

_A/N: Hello, all. Merry Christmas, I hope everyone is having a brilliant holiday. I have rather indulged myself and become quite lazy over the festive period, but I regret nothing. Eventually I finally finished for the Christmas holidays, and embarked on the trip back to my rural hometown. There has been an unfortunate delay in my writing that came in the form of my job. I work in retail…at Christmas, it has been...horrid. So a massive pat on the back to everyone in retail, we put up with a lot. _

_But on to far more important matters, thanks for all the feedback for the last chapter, and patience with the delay. Also hello, welcome, and thanks to people still joining, placing this story on alert and favouring. _

_Holidai: I think it's more along the lines of Edward not wanting to accept she's dead, denial is supposedly the very first stage of grief, and he has always been very irrational where Bella and danger are involved. Very doubtful they will be leaving each other's sides, I rather imagine them becoming attached at the hip. All shall be revealed regarding Alice and her visions. As for Tanya, I seem to fall in love with her more and more, so plenty more Tanya. Communication is a big issue, there are no convenient mobile phones, it really is just one big waiting game. Thanks so much for the review._

_emily volturi: She's finally back, reunited with some of the family, and soon a complete reunion. Thanks for the review. _

_46 Husbands Later: It has been a total of four whole days since she went missing! The Volturi work in mysterious, but very swift ways. Thanks for the review._

_vxgt: Thanks so much for the feedback. I've kind of become a big Tanya fan; she just seems to write herself. Hope you enjoy this one._

_viola1701e: Hopefully (and I say this while shaking my fist at how fast time flies) the next update will be before Easter….or should I wish you all a happy Easter now? Oh Bella seems to be off in her own delirious world, I think she kind of expected everyone to be home to greet her. Completely forgetting they are going to be searching. I'm sure there will be some kind of romantic trip away. Happy Easter ;) hope you like the chapter, and thanks for the review. _

_CullenBoy123: Aww you are just the best, such nice comments. This is the first time Tanya and Irina have met Alice and Jasper, and from the letter Bella sent their first impressions are bound to be a little warped. I'm sure once they get to know each other, relationships will form. Thanks for the review._

_Reader346: Thanks for the review. Sorry to leave another cliff hanger, I honestly don't realise I do it sometimes. _

_That Twilight Lover 3: Wow, thank you so much for the encouragement, and the brilliant pm. You are so kind, and have given me the ultimate boost to find time to type this out. So thanks once again, and I shan't stop until I have finished. _

_Kathrynbrown: Thank you very much for taking the time to review. Not weird at all, I've read chapters several times in the past. Hope you like this one too._

_Discliamer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Eighty Eight: Reconciliare<span>

July 30th 1950

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...

..

.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Newsweek in Review." He systematically shuffed his cue cards. "I'm Douglas Edwards, and here's this week's headlines. Monday July twenty fourth, saw Wilt's-Overland cut automobile prices by almost sixty three percent. While this is the second post war cut, but you will note it is by far the largest one-"

"Can we change the channel?" Tanya questioned, curling a strand of her blonde hair around her finger. "I think there are re-runs of _I Love to Eat_, on NBC."

"In a minute." I replied, never taking my gaze from the reader. "I just want to update myself with the news."

"I didn't know you liked cooking shows, Tanya?" Esme wondered, continuing to paint a pale pink lacquer onto my finger nails.

"Like?" Irina smiled rather slyly. "She's obsessed."

"I'm not obsessed." Tanya argued, tossing her legs over the arm rest. "It's just…interesting to watch."

"Not obsessed." Irina scoffed. "You watched seven hours of _Marjorie Abel's War Time Cooking_, back-to-back."

"That was because there was nothing else on, I don't know if you've realised…but we live in the middle of nowhere. It was cooking or shipping reports." She retorted rather defensively.

"Well you will be in good company; Emmett is a fan of cooking shows too." Esme placated. Examining the surely perfect skill of her precise painting, tapping my hand lightly to assure me they were done as I resumed watching a rolling headline. "Give him a list of ingredients and I'm sure he could reply with a thousand and one recipes."

"It annoys Rosalie to no end." I added. "Along with a trifle other things, the tweed jacket for example."

"I have heard many things about this infamous jacket." Irina replied, moving behind Tanya's chair and resting her arms along the back of the patterned upholstery.

"Infamous?" I repeated, turning away from my television occupation to give her my full attention. "I did not realise it had become so legendary."

"We have heard much of its adventures; it had become a…euphemism of sorts." She replied with a sly smile. "Emmett is to his jacket, what Tanya is to cooking shows."

"I'm not addicted." The very woman growled rather pitifully, trying to playfully strike her sister with a flailing hand.

I had to very much bite my lip, forcing the laugh to stay back and remain in my chest. But the smiled would not dissipate, leaving me to revel in the feeling of general light-heartedness. Recalling just how much I had missed these people, and just how grateful I was that they had come to my aid. Even Irina, who we had discussed on so many occasions, who we had continued to have a slightly strained relations, even she was willing to come down. She seemed so much happier, lighter, almost back to her old self, leaving me to wonder if perhaps Tanya's blunt ways had finally forged a new path for them all.

Had it not been for the days I had spent on a battlefield; having one too many brushes with death, and the slight issue that the majority of my family were still missing, this would have been a delightful moment. I wanted more than ever for everyone to be reunited. This whole palaver to be over and things returning to their _pre-adventure_ state.

While I desired their company above all else; for there was little else that would fill the void, their return would bring about another controversy. I had yet to tell the occupancy of the room what had transpired over the last days, it was something I only wished to relive and retell once. So upon the reappearance of the final members, the whole situation would come to light, and the uncomfortable, horrid, and abhorrent nature of the last days would become apparent.

"It's finally getting dark." Irina noted, her neck craning towards the wide bay windows. Spying the dark that was now beginning to consume the last of the summer light.

"It usually does at the end of the day." Tanya replied smartly, having twisted the television set dial to watch her beloved cooking program.

"I was making a sweeping statement." Her sister replied. "I wonder if they are on their way back?"

"Did they say how far out they were heading?" I questioned, trying to control my ever growing desperation for any news.

"It was vague at best." Irina replied. "Everyone just went in opposite directions, there was some discussion of visiting the nomadic trails, trying to gather information. But you know most nomads tend to move further north when the summer arrives…distance was a mere trivial matter."

"I'm sure they will make their way home soon." Esme consoled with a reassuring smile. "I think they would wisely choose to regroup and then make contact with home."

"Esme's right." Tanya piped in. "The plan was vague and frantic at best. Regrouping would be the best decision."

I nodded my head to confirm I had indeed taken their words into consideration. "I just dislike people worrying unnecessarily."

"Unnecessarily?" Tanya mimicked. "Bella, you practically disappeared off the face of the earth."

"It was hardly off the face of the planet." I tried to placate quietly.

"The south is practically other worldly." Irina chimed in, mulling over the single factor I had been forced to divulge. "I can't think of a single immortal that would openly choose to spend time there…the weather is confining and the company hardly recommends itself, from what I've heard."

I could only offer her a tentative nod of agreement; for the weather was something akin to an adverse tribulation, the company was that of a nightmare, and words could hardly do the scenario justice. "I would not recommend it." Came my simple stipulation.

We lapsed into silence once more; watching the vigorous assemblage of a frosted meatloaf by a bountifully _all American_ housewife. But no matter how much I should have been impressed by her skilled appliance of the mashed potatoes, slowly my thoughts began to drift backwards, coiling in slow reverse. I started to wonder what had happened to the Volturi, and eventually this morphed into the last moments in which I had seen Percival. Until the television chef became nothing but background noise, as my mind seemed all too keen to relive the last conversation.

No matter how much I told myself it was the end of the issue, the end of the problem, he still remained a poignant character. The last of my creations. All others had become victims to battle long ago, and now he had also fallen. While I tried to retain the notion of distancing myself from their fates, it did reflect upon my character. I did not have the talent, or capabilities to lead or guide my creations, and ultimately it was my doing that caused their downfall.

I wished more than ever to have been granted a life void of southern influence, to have been created a Cullen would have been nice. Where figures from your shady past did not return with a vengeance.

Bitter thoughts were unceremoniously cut short, and with a violent flinch I became aware of a high pitched noise. The house immediately filled with the august tone of telephone bells, that rang with a tuned shrill and echoed where we lacked a carpeted floor.

"Bella, you should go answer it." Tanya dictated, lording over us all. "If it's them calling for news, we may as well cut out the middle man."

"Very well." I agreed, seeing as no one else was offering their services.

I aimed for the modern cream coloured phone in the hallway; crossing the marble floor and swallowing down a bout of nervous apprehension. Several times I told myself to leave expectation behind, prepare to be disappointed. We got calls on a regular basis, from all sorts of people. But regardless to my rationality, I just wanted to hear a familiar voice… better yet I just wanted to hear from my husband.

I grappled for the handset, automatically twisting the coiled cabled between my fingers, as first I stated our name. "Hello, Cullen residence."

"Can I confirm the area code as 503?" The exchange operator questioned.

"Yes, 503, Seaside." I affirmed.

"Thank you, Ma'am. I have a cross state call in transmission, call from Pocatello, Idaho. The call's charge has been reversed to the homeowner of this address. Would you like to accept or reject the connection?" She reeled off in quick succession.

"Accept, please." I agreed almost as quickly, coiling the chord almost manically around my index finger.

"Alright." She announced. "Just for your notice, this long distance call has a national rate appliance, and will be charged by the minute. The charge is one dollar and forty cents. Do you still wish to connect?"

"Yes." I confirmed.

"Please wait for the call to be routed, and a connection to be established." Came the final statement, as the voice was replaced by the quiet clicks of the transmission. I thusly could not help but raise my hopes; it was an utter rarity to receive such a long bound call, especially from such a random location such as Pocatello.

But time passed by at a glacial speed, the constant ticking of the grandfather clock only further sort to emphasise this point; the whirring of the cogs and swinging of the pendulum. Several times I repositioned the clutter surrounding the phone base, realigning the pad of note paper, the vase of flowers, even the lace mat beneath it all. Then flicking through the telephone directory to find the most amusing names.

I reached the letter J, before there was any difference in dial tone; it buzzed suddenly and beeped something pitched. And then all too quickly there came a final click that patched me through to my caller.

"Hello?" I began rather hesitantly.

There was no initial reply, just a dead silence.

"Hello?" I tried a little stronger.

"Isabella?" A small voice answered. "Bella, is that you?"

"Alice." I breathed. "Yes, yes it's me."

Instead of a reply there came a strange noise, something akin to an animal cry, and it took me a moment to realised the sound had come from my caller. "I'm so glad." She choked. "I'm so sorry, Bella, I-I didn't see anything. I couldn't see you anywhere, it was all so dark. I tried to force them, but they wouldn't show me anything-"

"Alice, calm down…it's alright. I'm alright." I attempted to placate, but her words sent a burn of melancholy through me, a reminder that I was not completely alright. "I'm fine." I repeated.

The cracking of the receiver displayed her attempts to calm herself, and several deep breaths later she was able to reply. "I finally got a vision, a couple of hours ago." She began. "I saw you arriving back at the house."

I could not help but blanch. "Not the prettiest picture, eh?" Came my very poor attempt to crack a jibe.

"What happened?" She said quietly, her whisper making the line crackle once again.

"It's a very long story. " I responded generically. "I'll fill you in when everyone gets back. And speaking of everyone, you have any idea where they are?"

"Well, Jasper and I have been searching along the south nomadic straights, from Salt Lake City up to Idaho Falls. Everyone else was heading north along the same ley lines. I wasn't privy to their exact location…there was a scuffle and we departed to calm the situation." She sounded a degree embarrassed, rushing through the last comment quickly.

"Is Jasper alright?" I questioned. "Whatever Edward said or did, he didn't mean it."

"Oh." She squeaked. "You already know about it… I'm sorry he didn't mean to be so brazen."

"It's alright, Alice. Considering the circumstances, I would have probably accounted myself for dead."

"It was terrifying, you know." She said, barely speaking above a hushed pitch. "We didn't know what to do…you just never came back."

"I know." I affirmed, nodding my head in a pointless tirade. "But I'm back now. Just waiting on the return of everyone."

"I can try and round everyone up." She responded a little peppier. "I mean, we know roughly where they might be. I don't think there have been many heavy rain storms, so tracking shouldn't be impossible."

"I'd welcome any effort, but if you have no success then I hope to see you soon." I told her earnestly. "And if you do have success tell everyone I'm okay, especially Edward, tell him I'm alright."

"Will do." She agreed. "See you really, really soon, promise."

"Take care." I replied, before we simultaneously placed our phones back onto their cradles, and the line went dead.

"She seems to always be apologising on behalf of her mate." Came Tanya's quick jibe, as she seemed to slink her way around the door frame.

"Listening in on other peoples phone calls? I never pegged you for an eavesdropper. They seldom hear anything good of themselves."

"Good job I was not the topic of conversation." She replied smartly.

"No, we usually wait until you have gone home, before we begin the spiteful comments." I replied.

She let out a bark of a laugh, loud and brazen. "I forget how much I miss this." She gestured between the two of us. "It just isn't the same over the phone."

"Yeah." I nodded. "Feels like we haven't seen each other in a while…but you're going to stay a couple days once we're all back?"

"Yes, can't get rid of us that easy." She grinned. "Then again, I doubt you'll be parted from Edward…he'll be monopolising all your time. But I'll forgive you, just this once." She added with a genuinely understanding look.

"Thank you." Was all I could reply with.

"So… we're still on for Christmas, right? Family get together Because Carmen is really going all out this year.

"Of course." I agreed. "It's Emmett's most revered holiday. It would thusly be a crime to disappoint such a large child. He's not above pouting."

"And Alice and Jasper?" She added. "Should we expect their company as well?"

"Unless either of them have a particular aversion to Christmas, then you will expect them as much as you expect us." I told her. "Could you try to be a little nicer? They're not all bad."

"Says you." She chided. "I do recall receiving a very _interesting_ letter in the mail."

"And I have since learnt, writing a letter when you are in a foul mood to be a terrible idea." I replied, copying her laxed stance against the opposite wall. "Give them a chance?" I tried with my best smile. "I think you will really like Alice…yes she can be rather exuberant at times, but she means well."

"And Jasper?" She said with raised brows.

"I-I haven't quite figured him out yet, but he seems…nice. Maybe a little overwhelmed."

She narrowed her topaz eyes at me, scrutinising my words for a moment. "I'll consider it." She eventually replied.

"That's good enough for me."

* * *

><p>Eventually when I could no longer watch the cooking shows, off towards other pursuits I ventured. Having been told by Esme there were a pile of plaster board off cuts in the basement –the result of another of Emmett's escapades- I enlisted Irina to come help me patch up the holes in the bedroom wall. She was surprisingly handy when it came to household fixes, managing not only to patch, but plaster and sand it. Leaving me to paint over the new plasterboard, and wish I had half the skill she had.<p>

I filled the hours until dawn with absolutely mundane tasks, managing to accomplish more unnecessary things than need be. And by late morning I was all too ready to receive some other news, almost running down the dirt track to reach the post box. Being greeted by a bounty of mail and most importantly newspapers. I dished out the mail into the pigeon holes of their respective recipients; deciding to steal Rosalie's copy of _Harper's_ for my own, before spreading out the broadsheet on the kitchen table. Scouring it for financial news.

Other than a slight rise in the Railroads nothing of great excitement, or consequence had occurred in the past days. So I filled in the crossword puzzle, then doodled in the margins and titles.

I sat idle at the kitchen table for a while, watching the long morning shadows disappear as the sun reached its highest point. I wished Tanya and Irina good luck, as they left to hunt a little way from the house.

Time mocked me with it eloquently consistent pace.

My countenance began to fray and nothing could take my occupation, as I took to an aimless wander around the not to get in the way of the Denali sisters; who on return had taken to listening to the horse racing on the wireless. But finally,when Esme could take no more of my incessant pacing, she handed me a bundle of letter and all but threw me from the house with instructions to buy stamps and mail the items.

While I was averse to leaving the house, it was the sheer amount of pent up energy that forced me on the short journey towards the suburban postal office. With stern hopes the cloud cover would hold once I reached the more built up areas.

As per-usual, I kept far from any mortal being, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible with a high collar and a wide brimmed hat. But unfortunate timing meant I was forced to walk alongside a horde of children, as they made their way to some local school. Walking in their little groups, holding on tight to gatherings of books and lunch bags, taking up a suspiciously large area of the sidewalk. Lucky they paid me little attention, nothing more than a wary glance as I finally lost them to their school.

From that point I continued onwards, defeating the one and a half miles in little more than twenty minutes; a rather painful human speed. But enough time for me to gather together my wit and recover my human guise. Acclimating back to the slow and sometimes the oblivious world of the mortal realm. As foolish as it seemed, existing alongside the humans aided in the feeling of safety, ambling people, passing cars, and even the daylight, all helped limit the chance of vampiric danger.

And as I waited in line at the postal office; behind average mortals, counting out the coins in my hand and pondering over airmail costs, I felt the blessed return of normality. Washing over me in all its mundane glory.

I most probably gave far too larger smile, thanked the sub-postmaster with a little too much enthusiasm, even rambled with small talk, but the sheer novelty of this moment was brilliant. Maybe he thought me polite, or possibly balmy, it didn't matter. It really was the innovation of the moment, of the task, the sentiment, that caught me. Because I was still alive, I had survived.

While it was stupid, foolish even, to suddenly be so infatuated with a simple human task, I would count my blessing regardless. I had returned to my lovingly domesticated life, back where I belonged. I felt like doing human things, buying deliciously expensive garments from the department stores, going to the drive-in theatre, maybe even riding the bus. Anything that the likes of the Volturi would frown upon, anything that would make them turn their noses in disgust and run for the safety of their Italian stoned castle.

Although maybe taking the bus was a step too far.

He bade me a simple good day, and bore no indication that my friendly behaviour had been untoward; at least none that were visible while I were still present within the small building. He was even kind enough to stick the stamps upon my letters, save me having to lick backing gum; the dextrin taste always seemed to linger long after.

But with the task done so feverishly quick, I did find myself ambling rather waywardly back home, half hindered by the appearance of the sun, the other more inclined to remain active while the ongoing wait continued. So once more I set about walking at a snail's pace, skirting along the sidewalk shadows; wondering once all this _horridness_ was over, if it were possible to go down to the beach. Maybe even cliff diving.

Even though my mind drifted off to summertime pursuits, the same could not be applied to my senses.

Directly to my right, where the forest met the paved edge of the road, there came a subtle shift. A snap of twigs, crunch of leaves in the dry foliage. Instantaneously my muscles seemed to tense in response, while a shudder rippled its way across my shoulders. I continued walking, slower than before, keeping a wary eye on the shadows. The sound of passing motorcars became nothing more than background noise, and passing humans mere obstacles on the journey.

But as I reached the end of the suburbs - and subsequently the odd neatly allotted house- all traces of the noises seemed to disappear. Other than the sound of the feeble wind and the occasional caw of a bird amongst the trees, it was now silent. Leaving me to revel in my own embarrassment and chid my jittery countenance. Even so I forgo taking the path through the forests, instead ambling along the lone road that took me back towards the house.

The trees were awfully tall along each side of the dirt road, flourishing so much in the summer weather that their canopies laced together over the track. Creating a green tunnel of foliage that extended onwards some mile or so.

For a second time within a short period I became victim to my own edgy nerves, almost jumping in my skin as a wave of wind sent the continuous canopy oscillating far above. The birds sailed high into the sky, wings cracking in flight as they became dislodged from their perches. Unconsciously I pulled my coat closer around my body and walked a little swifter. Subsequently I reached the half mile point far quicker than any human could. But this time the sounds only got louder, a distorted echo in the natural tunnel.

So I stopped stoic, repeating a calm mantra in my head, while straining to pinpoint the exact location of these noises.

Yet it was all for nought.

For blustering almost violently from the forest wall came a figure, seemingly tripping their way into the road with limited grace or dexterity.

And there he was. Looking so strange and deviated. He appeared oddly wild in appearance, with clothes that not even a good wash and my sewing skills could fix. His hair looked as wild as mine had done, decorated with a mirage of foliage and more unruly than socially acceptable.

I choked on my first words, unable to properly form the correct syllables. And in the end we just sort of…looked at one another. Comprehending if this moment was truly happening, because it felt like an age had passed since we last saw one another. Finally…just finally I could be reunited with the one person I had missed more than any, my husband.

"I'm back." I began.

He bridged the gap before the words had finished falling from my mouth. It feeling like something from a Hollywood film, a dramatic reunion. But no silver screen acting could portray the absolute desperation, just us simply hanging onto each other in sheer need. We didn't need great climatic speeches, just a ridiculously tight embrace to confirm we were together. Of all the hugs that had been bestowed upon me on my return, it was this one that felt absolute.

I needed this one most of all.

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><p><em>AN: Finally, finally, finally. I'm so delighted to have this out. Hope you enjoy. And happy New Year. _


	90. Chapter Eighty Nine: Addo

_A/N: Happy new year for all those celebrating the Gregorian calendar. I hope 2014 will turn out to be brilliant, full of success, achievable ambitions, and looked upon fondly for all my readers. Shockingly, come April this story shall be celebrating its third birthday; we have become so very old. But I believe if all plans come together, this shall be the very last year of the story. Yet before that point there is still so much more that needs to be accomplished. So thank you for the latest reviews._

_Holidai: I'm so glad you enjoyed, I was writing like an absolute fanatic to get the previous out before the year ended. I've said it before, I love Tanya. She is incredibly old, very set in her ways, but a darling nonetheless. She and Bella are a dynamic duo, who I think need their own talk show. And of course the long awaited reunion of another duo; I'm very happy to have Bella and Edward back together. I miss writing about their antics. Thanks so much for being the first reviewer._

_BadassEri90: Oh, I am so happy to see your username pop-up in my email box. I promise this chapter shall deliver! I'm very happy to have the reunion between Bella and Edward. I did go through several motions when I wrote Edward's reappearance, but I think the slightly maddened look suited his character. Delighted to have such a lovely response towards my characters' personalities, making them believable is honestly one of the hardest parts I find about writing. Employment and I have a very testing relationship; I cannot tell you how close I have come to handing in a resignation letter. As for Alice and Jasper, it really was believability that forced my hand, the current family at the time of their arrival had been established for over fifteen years. Introducing new members into such a tight knit group was bound to cause some friction, but it can be worked through. I shall do my very best to try and speed up my writing, hope I shan't keep you waiting too long. A huge thanks once again for your reviews, you always succeed in making me smile, and the reason I continued to write. _

_That Twilight Lover 3: Even more reunion in this chapter too! Thanks so much for the encouragement and great comments, so very much appreciated. I hope I can continue to deliver (a little speedier if I can help it.)_

_emily volturi: Indeed finally we have our reunion. Thanks for the feedback._

_GoLeft: Ah, my apologies, my intentions were not to kill. Let us hope another chapter will revive you! Thanks for the review. _

_viola1701e: Happy new year! Hope you are having a brilliant one so far. I dread retail at Christmas, love speaking to all the nice people, but sometimes the way customers treat staff is appalling. I've been sworn at multiple times, for simply doing my job (I'm customer services/refunds and exchanges.) But you just have to put on your best smile, and hope karma will deal them out the hand they deserve. I'm glad you got out of it….and what is this mystery job you have now? I promise a good helping of Edward/Bella on this chapter, I've missed writing about them. Thanks for reviewing!_

_vxgt: Yes, I am very happy to be writing them back together. Thanks for the feedback._

_Guest: Where are you? Chapter 1…did I write about a King? Oh I did, can I presume you are speaking about Edward VII?_

_shyandtay: Thank you. _

_Dazzle me in purple: Happy new year!_

_demilovato4eva: I'm very glad to have them reunited; I miss writing about them together. The others will be returning shortly. Thanks for reviewing. _

_CullenBoy123: Thank you very much! And Happy new year!_

_Tahlia Loves Emmett Cullen: (That is a fabulous username by the way) Oh bless you, I absolutely hate reading FanFic on my phone, and the mobile version is a little crappy. Thank you so much for the encouragement. Hopefully to clear up the confusion, George has never met Amos. He awoke to find a vampire named Elias and consequently decided to travel with him. Amos is just a friendly wandering nomad. Sorry for the confusion, I have a tendency of adding random characters with slightly historical names. Thanks once again for the review. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Eighty Nine: Addo<span>

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We never deviated from our embrace, not for a long while, not even when a motorcar passed by on the opposite side of the road and we were privy to the occupants gazing upon us. But I had little care towards the opinion of a human; they could not pry me away from this moment, not for all the funny stares, or town gossip they attempted to induce. Nothing mattered, not even that fact that my hat was slowly blowing down the road. So I held on tightly, resting my chin on his shoulder, while my arms encircled his neck securely.

Trying to seek out comfort from a well-known stance; revelling in the notion of truly feeling safe for the first time since my return.

"You're here." He whispered hoarsely, the words vibrating against the exposed skin of my neck. "You're really here."

I could form no sufficient reply; the words were lost to the gaping ache that festered within the centre of my chest. It was an unhealed wound, easily opened once more, with a mere touch. The melancholy seemed to churn. Rising upwards to claim hold of my throat, infecting it with a thickness that would not shift, then onwards making my eyes burn.

The poised and dignified idea of apologies, assurances, and comforting words, simmered away. Instead, it became I who held on with a vice like grip, yearning for the comfort and assurance. Because this was a safe place, surely there could be no finer place than being held so tightly, especially when than person was the definitive other half of me, the absolute love of my life. It was unrivalled.

"I'm really here." I told him eventually, releasing the fists of fabric and my choking hold around his neck. Before soothing down the collar of his coat, brushing away the remnants of the forest, and fingering the threadbare holes. "I'm back."

"Where have you been?" Came the question that seemed to define this moment in time, with his poignantly disconcerted face and hands that now curled around my forearms. "You just…disappeared. You never came back."

"I know." I responded. "I know. I couldn't get…back."

Discombobulation turned into something darker, twisting with a deepening frown of discontent upon his face. "But it's alright." I tried to placate.

"No." He said shaking his head rather vehemently. "It's not alright, where have you been? It's been five days…I didn't know where you were." He stated in rapid succession, watching my face. "I didn't know what to do."

"I know." I replied once more, gripping ahold of his wrists. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen."

His eyes studied my face, watching for something I was not privy to. But now, more than ever did I hope his notice would fail to find the new mars, and the scarf around my neck was enough to keep them concealed. "Where did you go?" He asked once again. "I tried to find you."

"I heard." I began once more to console. "I knew you would. But there was nothing you could have done, I was so far away, and it happened so quickly." I was forced to quieten my voice, as a rumbling engine could be heard approaching in the distance. Upon first sight I set us walking down the road, for the engine belonged within a new Hudson Commodore, painted black and white, a relatively new addition to the Seaside Police Department.

I accosted Edward with adept swiftness, clamping my arm through his and all but marching him along the roadside. He did so with the utmost compliance. Luckily the sheriff passed by without much trouble, and seemed content with the bright smile I gave. But the moment the Hudson turned the bend in the road, it was I who was accosted from the roadside and into the forest.

We disappeared so swiftly; that I was sure to any human it would seem we had just vanished into thin air. There was no stopping once we passed the forest line; in fact Edward seemed intent on walking. With his hand holding tightly onto mine, I could do nothing but follow diligently; eventually catching up. We walked at a rapid human pace, never following any trails, just blustering through the undergrowth.

Until, eventually, we were far enough away from the road, to be unbothered by any interference; be they passing cars or possible ambling mortals.

Had this been any other time, I would have most probably berated him for such an uncouth method of gracelessness. Yet things were hardly of the ordinary stance, and at this moment I didn't possess the heart, or mind, to cheerfully tease. So I held onto him, keeping us physically close. Unwilling to let go, even when we finally reached a destination.

"I want to know everything." He began with a firm decisiveness. "I need to know." He repaired. "What exactly happened? Because all I know, is you…_disappeared_. And never came back."

I gripped his hand impossibly tighter, loathing the evident pain of his tone, and abhorring yet more distain towards this whole situation. "I'm sorry." I replied automatically. "Sorry I couldn't get back, I tried, but there were so many things in my way."

"Who was it?" He questioned, watching my face so intensely for any trace of the answer.

"The last people I ever suspected of journeying this far into the America's. The Volturi." I confirmed, my lips turning into a grimace of lingering improbability at their appearance.

"The Volturi?" He repeated. Presenting a countenance half made of astonishment, half exasperation. "Volturi?"

I nodded in confirmation. "Aro, Caius, a hand full of guard's members.

"Why?" He blustered. "What did they want? What...did they want with you?" And so began the pacing. He liked to pace, always had done since the moment I met him. A restless, fitful habit that usually seemed to bring about some kind of epiphany…or clear thoughts. I thusly did not stop him.

"They wouldn't tell me at first." I continued, watching him stop and start. "Some bland comment about having a talk. They just decided we needed to leave, and so we did. I tried to…scream, or make some kind of noise…but the storm was so loud. It pretty much drowned out everything."

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a ragged, uneven breath that was enough to signal his unhappiness with this tale. The worst was yet to come; I considered ways to gloss over certain parts, try to soften the blow.

But as soon as that very inclination passed through my chain of thoughts, I discarded it with almost certain distaste. Of all the people I knew, and methods of manipulating the situation for my own selfish desires, Edward was the one person I could never keep things from. He knew me, better than I knew myself sometimes. Therefore, lying to him would be the most pointless of ventures, he would know, see through my poorly constructed deception. It would only end up causing more pain.

"We ran for a good half day. South wards. I think we stopped somewhere close to the Mexican border."

"We never thought to consider so far south." He responded vaguely, speaking mostly to himself than partaking in the one-sided conversation. "Should have known."

"Don't be stupid, no one could have known. Even I had no idea what was going on, and I was the one partaking." I cut it with a firm resold. "If anyone blames themselves for this, then they are utter half-witted fools. So cut that out for certain, or I shan't continue."

He nodded, albeit slowly. "Then what?"

"We stopped to regroup with the rest of the _clan; _I'd say it almost appeared as if the whole guard was present. Just ambling around this very strange derelict plantation. That's where I had to speak with them." I could not help but recall those moments as almost being like a dream, long before the horrors of the battle, long before the manipulations. "It turned out I had more to do with the situation than I had previously thought."

"What do you mean?" He questioned, now stopping to once again watch me carefully.

"Remember when I told you about Percival?"

"The one from the desert, from the south."

"When he found me in Cleveland, and told me about the demise of the rest of the army. I told you he left with a strange idea in his mind, somehow…erratic. Not in his right mind. I didn't think anything of it. I honestly thought his ideas of revenge would be fruitless, I hoped earnestly he would just…cease existing at some point."

"So…he succeeded." Came the tepid question.

"Yes." I nodded. "He succeeded. I underestimated him completely, utterly failed in my character analysis. He had managed to raise quite the group."

"You went there, didn't you?" He summed, with a look of unwelcome realisation. "Back to the south."

"I did." I confirmed.

"And did you fight?"

"It was not optional."

As expected, he did not take this news well. Managing to hold in his verbal animosity, but his fists shook with an inconceivable rage. Jaw clenched, muscles tensed is an absolute anger. His eyes, which had already been on the verge of the darkest topaz, now turned a coal black.

"It's alright." I attempted to console, reaching out to him and taking a hold of his hands. "I'm alright, I'm here. Alive." When clasped hands were insufficient in their duty, I solicited towards his face, placing my hands upon his cheeks, making him look me in the eye. "I'm alright. And as far as I'm concerned that is all that matters."

He placed his forehead against my own, head bowed, as it always did considering our height difference. But the taut muscles on his shoulders seemed too lax a little, and slowly his shaking fists unfurled, until I could once again lace our fingers together.

It seemed like every spare moment during my time away, was spent thinking of returning to moments like this. Physical contact that did not come with a bite of pain, or the violence of a blow. I realised how much one could take such simple, loving gestures for granted. It may not have been completely without query, for the gestures were more of comfort, to calm one another from turmoil. But even then, things felt a little better. Being reunited with the one person you could never exist without; and the empty ache that had been so persistent, felt a little better.

But words have a funny way of breaking tranquillity, in this particular case just one little innocent question managed to tear open the healing wound. "Did you get hurt?" He asked.

This time it was I who tensed, unable to halt or cease the sudden and uncontrollable spasm of my muscles. It was an answer in itself; I could hardly deny or hide the existence of a new bout of defects. "A little." I replied, failing once more to remain ambiguous. "But what's a couple more…to an already…numerous…" I gave up half way through, for the jokes and light-heartedness were a pointless tirade, more suited to those I did not share such an intimate acquaintance with.

Pulling at the chiffon scarf around my neck, I undid the pretty blue bow to expose the flesh beneath. Giving him the best view, baring the worst of the damage in one swift motion.

He initially sucked in a breath, but caught his reaction at the back of his throat, the sound stopping with an unnatural lurch. But his eyes –having immediately noted them- now never strayed away. I felt his hand move, and the back of his fingers tracing the semi-circular marks at the hollow of my neck. New defects always bore a curious feeling; his skin ever so slightly warmer compared with the raised wounds, and the sensation prickled with a tingle.

"They're bad, huh?" I said meekly. Fixing my gaze on the torn collar of his jacket, and avoiding his confirming eyes.

"No." He lied rather boldly. Once again, pulling me into an embrace, my cheek resting against his chest, while he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. "They're alright. Nothing we can't handle. " He stated over the top of my head.

I clung onto those words almost as tightly as I clung onto him, hoping he was right. For now I couldn't bear to look, or touch them, each one possessed its grim memory, returning in a grisly tirade of morbid images, like a never ending picture show.

But we had worked through the others; I had found some solace, maybe even become fond of a couple of silver scars and the tales they induced. I tried to tell myself, we could come to accept these ones…eventually. Yet right now that was too distant, too impossible for the time being.

"Can we go home now?" I queried after a long consideration, releasing my iron grip to toy with the frayed lapels of his once dashing jacket. "I want to lounge around, possibly hide in bed, and make a fort like Emmett does."

"Alright." He agreed with a smile, resting his chin atop my head. "So long as I get to partake in this lounging."

"We'll see." I replied, managing to place an extremely chaste kiss upon his cheek. Not at all surprised to find it being reciprocated, before turning into something a little heavier.

Towards home we eventually started, heading first back to the road in order to retrieve my hat- which had blown a good hundred yards down the asphalt road. With it successfully back on my head, along with the return of a well knotted scarf, we returned to the safety of the forest. But before we made the mile or so journey home, we deflected a little way west to hunt. While my hunger resonated very little; and consequently I hunted only small prey, Edward took down multiple game. I had never seen him consume so much blood, and could not help but wonder where he was putting it all. But as long as he was sufficiently full and no danger to any stray mortals, I decided not to question the sheer volume.

By the end of the impromptu hunt the heat of the day was finally beginning to diminish. The late afternoon now lingered with a peaceful stance, wind picking up the scents of the summer blooms, while heat rose from the hot ground. It was an easy journey back, rapid when using the speed we were gifted with.

I did not even make it to the property boundaries before being violently accosted by something small and nimble, flying into my person with almost unrivalled strength. With one hand still clasped within Edward's I could only give Alice an awkward pat, as she invaded my space with yet another hug. "Isabella." She repeatedly squeaked my name. "You're back."

"Indeed." I managed reply over the tumble of her words. "But you already knew that."

"Yes, but now you are here in person." She said looking me over several times, before her eyes came to meet mine. Her lips pursed together and seemed to wobble under the strain, and there was a strange pause in her exuberance. "I'm so sorry." She finally blurted out a cry. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Before I could reply, or offer any assurance, my name was called with a great boom of enthusiasm. I knew who would be greeting me before I had even passed through the gate.

"Hey, Em." I responded, trying to judge the best way to accept his embrace.

It didn't make any difference. He swept be upwards into an almost rip crushing hug, leaving my arms trapped against my chest. "Bella." He greeted, with a dimple permeated smile. "Where have you been?"

"That is exactly what I'd like to know." A cool voice cut through the rather tight hug.

I managed to escape the embrace, retaining a little dignity as I came face to face with Rosalie. I was used to seeing her impeccably dressed, so it came as a start to view her looking so ruffled. Blonde hair scraped backwards into a loosening and deconstructed braid, strands of flyway's circling her hairline. There was a smudge of dirt across her cheek, boots caked in mud, and a general dishevelled look about her.

Regardless, she looked me up and down with her usual derogatory gaze. "You've had everyone worried." She told me.

"Even you?" I replied rather boldly.

She rolled her eyes in reply, but it did not possess half the cheek I was used to. "Yes." Eventually she responded. "I have become somewhat fond of you, after all this time."

"I think that is one of the nicest things you have ever said to me." I jested. But regardless to her reluctancy, I gave her my best one-arm clinch. "Thank you, Rose." I told her honestly.

"It's fine." She mumbled. But a squeeze of my hand was all it took to assure me she was at least happy to see me. "I'm glad your back."

With Edward a constant presence at my side, I managed to survive being reunited with the final members of our large family. Surviving Kate's tirade, and being overly mollycoddled by Carmen. Garrett refrained from giving what I presumed would be a rather awkward embrace, and we settled for a friendly, but warm handshake. And from Jasper, I was just happy to mirror the terse nod I received from him.

"You had us quite worried there, Isabella." Eleazar commented, clasping my hands within his, for a fond greeting.

"Forgive me; it was not my intention to make you worry." I replied offhandedly, accepting an affectionate embrace from Carlisle.

"We are just extremely happy to have you back." Carlisle said, keeping his hands upon my shoulders in a reassuring form of support.

"I'm happy to be back." I replied honestly. "But I suppose, one cannot beat around the bush. I have some very…interesting events to relay."

"Whenever you're ready." He responded.

"I'd rather get it over and done with." I retorted, fighting with an uneasy smile.

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><p><em>AN: I hope I have been able to give you all the reunion you were after. I'm finally back to city living, which means far better internet speeds, twenty four seven food deliveries, and getting squished and trampled on the underground. Oh, and I suppose Uni work also. _

_But thanks so much for the reviews, please do keep them coming. Love hearing from you all. _


	91. Chapter Ninety: Mortifer

_A/N: Oh ok… chapter ninety. Yeah, when did we get here? I feel like we have missed so many numbers. Thanks all for the feedback, I'm always blown away by the response and inspired to get on and write. And welcome to all those who have joined us. _

_viola1701e: Let's hope this good start can continue onwards into the rest of the year, although I'm quite glad January is now over, it lacked the comfort of December. Thankfully, at the moment my job is rather quiet; the angry customers have retreated until the next holiday. But being a projectionist sounds wonderful! I definitely need a job that starts at noon. Right back to the story…I felt sorry for Edward, I mean, he really tried to find her. But even his best wasn't good enough, which is a horrible thought. Thanks for being the first reviewer, hope you enjoy this one._

_vxgt: Thank you very much. I think we can agree there are forests significantly void of standing trees, because of him and his anger. _

_Holidai: Thank you so much. I'm really no great romance writer, and having never been in a similar situation, it was an extremely difficult reaction and consequence to write. I really do appreciate the encouragement on this part. And I know everyone was looking forward to a Bella/Edward reunion (myself included), it was something that needed to be done. They needed a moment before the reintroduction of the family. _

_xshynenstarx: I'm sure her recount of the events will entice some strong emotions; not only in the family, but reliving the events can also be extremely traumatic. Thank you for the feedback. _

_That Twilight Lover: Thanks for the mini heart attack; you should have seen my face once I read the first line of your review. I was like "Oh crap." But much appreciated (once I had recovered) really glad you liked it. I wrote Rosalie's part three or four times, I began with a really sentimental moment…but that felt way too out of character. Finally settling on the understated emotions, good to know it was received well. I completely agree with the whole Bella/Alice hug, I wanted it to be a meaningful reunion, adding conflict just seemed to take away from the moment. Hope I won't keep you waiting too long. _

_demilovato4eva: Thank you! I'm so happy, I really wanted a little fluffy romance (and I normally suck at writing it) so I'm so glad to hear you say that. _

_Holymisery: In one go?! How? W-welcome, I am in slight awe of you. But welcome to the story. Hope you continue to enjoy. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the right to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Ninety: Mortifer<span>

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Ambiguously situated adjacent to the living room, and directly to the left as one entered into the entrance hall, the formal parlour was not a room we often ventured into. Within its modish, ritzy paper lined walls, stood an accumulation our most costly possessions; things that were often irreplaceable, or one-of-a-kind items. Antique furniture, imported rugs and throws, glass cabinets full of treasured trinkets we would rather have out of the way. The room was nothing less than a spectacular cache.

Not wishing to sit alone, I instead headed straight for the French couch and sat myself against one of the curved arms. Edward, who was never far behind, did not even consider where to seat himself, just followed after myself and took the available space at my side. We were nicely situated, that was until Tanya declared her desire to sit next to me, moving us all along a space as we gave in to her whim.

So I sat in the middle. Upon my allocated cushion watching the others file in. Most sat on the other antique offerings, the soft, cosy armchairs, or lavish high backs. While the usual suspects –Jasper, Emmett, Garett, and Irina- chose to stand. How nicely, we all fit within the room, contently crammed in around the chairs. Quiet conversations that had carried into the parlor came to a convenient stop. A vacuum of silence that became a sudden pressure, stifling with the warmth of the room.

"So." Rosalie dispensed her utterance. "Do you want to explain where you've been?"

"I've been off gallivanting." I replied to her demands. Fingers automatically finding a strand of fallen hair, twisting and coiling it around. "That is to say, not of my own accord."

"Can we have this in plain English?" She replied with a bite of irritation.

"Why don't we start at the beginning?" Carlisle interjected calmly, his hands poised open and palms upwards.

"I suppose, that's a good a place as any." I summed. "Playing baseball…" In my seat I turned to view the youngest member of our family, but his broad build looked almost deflated, and those brilliant dimples replaced by an uncharacteristically terse expression. "You will never guess who caught your ball, Em?"

"I can only guess." Came his very bland reply, hands tense on the back of Rosalie's chair.

"It was a great ball, by the way." I responded, giving him the best smile I could muster. "But we still would have won…had other uninvited persons not shown up."

He smiled something small, but it was an improvement regardless. "Don't be silly, Bella. The game was ours." He joked. But as quick as that smile came, it was gone again. "But who was it? Who caught me out?"

"Aro." I replied.

The response was something to behold, audible disbelief from some, pursed lips from others, even a violent burst of cursing from the Denali sisters. Regardless, the hostility was almost tangible, from all sides, even those who were usually void of such feelings.

"Just Aro?" Eleazar questioned with a critical eye; for years of experience as a member of _their_ clan, had ultimately taught him well. Enough, to suspect not all was what it seemed.

"Does he ever travel alone?" It therefore answered itself. "Caius, and a select handful of his guard. Alec, Felix…two or three other less important members."

"And, what did they want with you?" Tanya demanded.

"To talk." I recalled. "That's what he said. I didn't see too much harm in his intentions; after all, they have appeared on my doorstep before. But they seemed to be in quite the hurry, and apparently that included me."

"They just…took you? Void of any explanation?" Eleazar inquired, his brows pulled together in a deep set frown.

"Yep, they would tell me nothing else." I confirmed. "At least not until we reached the supposed destination."

"They are playing a very dangerous game." He mused darkly. "Seizing you in such a manner. We, as a collective are the Volturi's greatest external alliance; what could possibly make them resort to jeopardizing that?"

"I wondered the same thing." I confessed. "But now, with the ability to consider their actions, they did not possess their usual…finesse. Diplomatic relations were clearly the last thing on their mind… which, considering later revelations, was strangely understandable. But indeed, they would tell me nothing. Not for a good twelve or thirteen hours."

"And where were you heading?" Garrett questioned.

"Roughly…we began southwards, then southwest. We kept to a pretty prominent valley, then upon making its crest some time later, there was a large density of lights almost directly to the west. A constant speed and like I said, twelve or thirteen hours later-"

"I'd hazard a guess of Los Angeles or San Diego." Jasper interjected for the first time, doing well to look at ease when everyone's attention turned onto him.

I nodded my head. "I thought – considering speed - Los Angeles would be the most probable outcome. Also the terrain, we had not quite reached the sandy soil of such a southerly destination as San Diego."

"You stopped there?" Carlisle questioned.

I took a settling breath, reminding myself this is not a geography tete-a-tete, there were other more uncomfortable issues to deal with. "Yes, after ascending along the mountain ridges, we then made a sharp descent into a small valley. The hillsides were flooded with old and unattended orchards, and upon the valley floor was this old compound. Like a plantation…that's where we joined up with the remaining members of the Volturi."

"All of them?" Tanya frowned, her grip having settled tightly onto my arm.

"I presume almost all of them. But…I did not see the wives."

"That is very unusual." Eleazar commented. "For such numbers to travel without Sulpicia and Athenodora… this was obviously something they felt could result in a heavy alteration. Loss in numbers."

I could only smile bitterly. "You've understood perfectly…I've seen some things in my lifetime…but I can honestly say, without a shadow of a doubt…the altercation that happened was the most horrific thing I have ever seen." I ran my fingers through my hair, blowing out a breath of air. "I can't pretend I wasn't involved, because my neglect as a sire aided the beginning of it all. That's why they wanted to speak with me. My last surviving creation, Percival, allied himself with the Romanian coven."

"Fuck." Tanya muttered aloud, echoing what I assumed was the sentiments of the whole room. "Fucking…fuck."

"How did they even meet? I thought the Volturi kept tabs on them?" Edward questioned, looking a deal more agitated over unheard parts of the story. His hand had managed to accost my one, holding onto it tightly.

"Aro said it was because of the war." I began, reminiscing on the very conversation we had over the matter. "With Europe in such a hostile condition and armies moving across the continent, he said it was nigh on impossible for the Volturi to move. And due to the movement of the mortals, apparently Demetri was unable to keep tabs upon the Romanians. Once the armistice was agreed, they sort them out…found them missing…and the great hunt began."

"And they located them here?" Carlisle queried.

"Not just on this continent, they were located in Mexico. Having joined up with Percival…and as you can imagine they didn't just sit idly."

Eleazar rubbed his forehead, pushing his fingers in circular motions on his temples. A pointless tirade that in the end served as no aid in the ongoing disbelief I delivered.

"They built an army." Carmen answered, her eyes now trained on me with an unwavering stance. "And you were forced to fight."

My reply was a mere terse nod. More than ever I just wanted to go and hide within the thickness of the bed sheets, try and delude myself into a false sense of peace.

"But why risk seizing you?" Eleazar muttered aloud. "Too much of a risk to steal you just to fight…" His eyes suddenly snapped to view me. "Unless…unless, they were after your gift."

"Shield?" Edward vocalised loudly, looking a great deal displeased with the knowledge he lacked. "But what use is just one impenetrable mind?"

"He was banking on Isabella being able to expand her shield, to protect his entire guard, himself and brothers included." Eleazar began to vocalise his summary, allowing those ignorant to the hypothesis to join.

"They already have the means to protect themselves from physical attacks." Carlisle merged himself into the argument. "To completely cover themselves, having minds impenetrable to psychic attacks would be of great merit."

"But did they succeed?" Eleazar wondered with his artfully crafted questioned, pressing the matter back towards me.

"Once Aro has an idea in his mind, there is little anyone can do to convince him otherwise. I had no belief, or desire to find out if my… shield did anything other than keep me content. But my feelings over the matter came second only to his desires. So yes, yes they did succeed." I responded acrimoniously, unable to disguise by resentment.

"You can expand it?" Eleazar pressed.

"If I should so desire." Came my reply, as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, pushing down the aggravation and trying to cling onto the sense of calm that had been present before. "Once he had established I could sufficiently use it, everything moved quickly from that point onwards. The entire guard left in shifts to hunt. Come the next morning we were on the move again."

"They seemed to have planned everything meticulously." Carlisle summed glumly.

"Do you expect anything less from the likes of the Volturi." Irina spat in her tuppence.

"I don't know." I shrugged. "It seemed they were winging it. Luck seemed to be on their side, that or a sequence of brilliant coincidences. We pushed hard to the boarder, made it there in almost record time, having split up into smaller groups. The most logical way to approach an army of such size, would be to ambush them, take them by surprise, split them into smaller groups and pick them off. But the desert plains are extremely exposed, you would need some kind of camouflage."

"Or perhaps, a desert storm would suffice?" Jasper mused.

I nodded in response to his wise words. "Aro already knew of the storm, that's most probably why we had rushed across the border. It was much too good an opportunity to miss out on. Up to that point, it really did seem like the Volturi were having all the luck."

I felt Edward's grip strengthen, until our palms were tightly pressed together and our laced fingers bent at steep angles. The pinnacle moment seemed to arrive far too quickly now, I didn't feel ready to divulge. A confliction between two sides, one wanting to share the load, the other wanting to hide away and gloss over the worst of it.

But I suppose we had come so far…every great adventure must have an _epic_ ending. I grappled for any kind of confidence; wondering if Jasper was on hand this time around.

"But when we came to regroup - about a mile from Hermosillio- one group of three never returned. After waiting for a while, it was decided we would progress onwards without them." I began with factual recollection. "The storm had whipped up a good deal of sand, visibility was extremely poor. It was only when we scaled some of the larger ranged that the condition began to improve. We were overlooking a great salt plain…" It was a natural pause, one that I could not help but take, reliving those initial moments. The horror that lay before us, those doomed words that were spoken. _It would seem we have been discovered._

"Then what?" Tanya said quietly, almost on tenterhooks.

"A whole army of newborns." I told her. "Fifty…at least fifty."

"Fifty?" Jasper repeated slowly. "Fifty newborns?"

"At least." I replied. "Other than the obvious, there were perhaps a couple older ones. And I use that term lightly. But none possessed any kind of control, they could barely hold rank."

Jasper began a slow bout of nods, but seemed to be carefully considering my words. I could not help but turn to face him, the understanding he displayed was the very thing I needed to continue onwards, so I spoke primarily to him.

"Once Aro had given his usual gallant speech, and had it thusly rejected by the Români brothers, that's when it begun." I started. "But…but that's not even the half of it. Within over an hour, we had nearly destroyed every single newborn. With not one mark upon our record."

Jasper's frown settled heavy. "That's…very disturbing."

"I know." I confirmed rather animatedly. "There was no fight in them."

"They had no training." He responded.

"Exactly." I agreed. "Not one of them displayed any kind of formal combat, they merely relied upon newborn strength."

"That does not sound like the Romanians, to be so unprepared." Eleazar interjected. "They know of the Volturi's skill, they should have factored being discovered into their plans."

"It doesn't make tactical sense." Garrett added. "That many newborns, fifty. There is no way the Romanian's, plus this Percival man, alone, could possibly control that many blood thirsts savages. How?"

"They didn't." I answered. "I knew Percival…that is to say, I knew of his traits. He would not put himself in such a vulnerable position. Which led us to consider something untoward. And it was not long until we were proven correct…the whole fight was merely a diversion. We were ambushed by yet another army."

With perfect clarity, I could see that one instance, when above the cliff top appeared a sight so horrid. A mirage of bodies

A sight that would be forever burnt into my memory; the fear, despair, the utter desperation to survive were all still tangible and raw. As they stood, crouched, and lorded themselves over the flat valley. High above in their craggy vantage point, an army with numbers that I could surely call unrivalled by anything I had ever seen in my life. The point in which I questioned my own immortal stance; guessing the probability of surviving. Discovering the odds did not fall within my favour.

Perhaps…maybe, I felt true fear for the first time. That icy cold notion that shivered down your spine, able to taste and feel the edge of nothingness. It's only when you have everything to lose, that you really begin to fear death.

"And it was this secondary group who possessed the traits lacked by the first." Jasper summed; his sheer ability to deduce was truly second to none.

"Yes, they had saved the best for last." I relayed mirthlessly. "I shouldn't even like to hazard a guess at the numbers, just many, so many. And the side, I'm fighting on, well they didn't have a plan, just looking around in a shell shocked stupor. Then we're fighting again, but this time we're up against an army who have some merit worthy skill."

"It is hard to believe with such numbers, and against such a common enemy within the south, that no one else became embroiled within the fight. Odds against the Volturi would be extremely favourable." Jasper began, but his detached monologue became the victim of Edward's resenting growl at his loose words.

"It's fine." I tried to soothe him, placing a hand upon the tightly coiled muscles of his forearm. Doing my best to instil any kind of comfort, even if my words did little to help his frayed anger, I sincerely hoped being physically close would suffice for the moment. And while his displeasure did not immediately disperse, it settled to the controlled simmering to which he was usually accustom. "You have managed to piqued my curiosity, Jasper. Such an ambiguous statement, did you have someone in mind?"

"He's wondering, why his sire did not interfere." Edward relayed to me.

"Only because it was in her nature to interfere within the business of others, especially in the case of the Volturi." Jasper argued back, his hands flexing at his sides. Alice hovering at his side, looking haplessly feeble, torn between her loyalties.

"Alright, alright." Carlisle placated. "Let's not turn this into an argument."

"But I'm interested now." I said, turning in my seat once more to view Jasper. "About your sire. I'm considering a rather outlandish coincidence. Because there was another _cad_ in the midst. Another infamous name amongst the masses."

His frown was low, bordering on an uncomfortable awareness. Even Alice, who had remained steadfast at his side throughout, looked a good deal interested at these turn of events.

"So." Rosalie interjected, looking between Jasper and I. "You want to indulge us, I'm afraid not all of us are on the same page."

"She was there?" Jasper implored, doing well to blatantly ignore Rosalie.

"If we're talking about the same person, then yes, she was there." I acknowledged. "Along with her ever_ loyal _assemblage."

"Their fate?" He questioned tersely.

"Death. Every single one of them. I can vouch."

He nodded once, maybe a confirmation toward my declaration. But seemed neither distressed or elated towards the news, but that remained a private matter, one I did not wish to pry into.

"So, by default, and through the names you have spoken, is it fair of me to make an assumption?" Jasper began quite brazenly.

"Is this really the time?" Tanya called, jostling my arm in discontent.

"It's only fair." I stated, seeking an option to remove myself from the storytelling, even if it was just for the moment. "Assume away."

"Always a fucking riddle." Rosalie muttered her complaint, twisting her blonde hair about in an almost vicious manner.

He weathered Rosalie's look with the skill of a proficient, never bothered by her untoward behaviour, or perhaps uncaring. Regardless, her comment was rendered void. "I have been trying to place you." He began. "Within the grand scheme, the territories of the south. I confess to having no success…that is, until you mentioned Percival."

"Ah, so you know of him too." I commented offhandedly. "How famous my creation did come."

"By name only." He confirmed. "I never came vis-à-vis with him. But his name only became knowledge after an unexpected jolt within the group hierarchy. The man, to whom Percival succeeded, suddenly ceased to exist. Quite an unexpected shock, for Horace, he was very much a staunch survivor. Well known for getting himself out of a bind. As Percival's creator, you must have known of Horace?"

"For groups who vehemently hated each other, gossip was always rife." I supplied. "Horace was my creator and he was a bastard, that's the nicest thing I can supply to his memory. A pathological liar, who more often than not, conveniently disappeared when an altercation came around."

"I met him only once. When I was fairly new to this life. He marched his army across some territory we had acquired; but once the altercation began to fall in our favour, he was not sighted again."

"Sounds just like Horace." I replied rather bitterly.

"As you can imagine, Maria did everything in her power to have him hunted down." He spoke her name with a hard edge; the description encapsulated her reputation perfectly. "But nothing was ever heard of him, not until some, forty years later. He finally re-emerged, taking over the region south of Monclova."

I contemplated his words with the utmost care, but _forty years _rang with a heavy toll. "When did you hear of his re-appearance?"

"I cannot be entirely accurate, but I'd say either twelve or thirteen."

So indeed, he made his return in nineteen twelve, myself being one of those be brought with him. But for forty years his time was unaccounted for. I could not help but jump to conclusions; forty years was an extremely long time to remain absent from the south, only to then suddenly return. Something, or someone had prompted his return.

And from the Volturi visit some years ago, with their questions and queries regarding Horace. The possibility of his involvement with the Romanian's…forty years was a long time. Long enough to make a trip across the Atlantic, long enough to establish a strong rapport with the Români brothers, long enough to come up with an outlandish plan to overthrow the Volturi. He just never lived long enough to put it into practice.

But surely, after we destroyed him, they would seek to find a replacement. Someone with a vendetta, someone not within their right mind. Someone like Percival.

It was a strange and rather awful consideration. A realisation that if my hypothesis was correct, my own entanglement within the Romanian and Volturi feud, had been going on from the moment I awoke. I had been changed for that purpose, manipulated far beyond what I imagined.

It was sobering.

Further proving it was only the people within these four walls, to whom I could place my trust. They were the only constant thing. And perhaps it was better this way, nothing good had ever come from digging up the past.

My life seemed to be riddle, wrapped in a mystery. Where the past remained ever the conundrum, and I would ever be in the dark.

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><p><em>AN: Goodness, I am so happy to have this chapter out, writing such a full slog of dialogue between so many characters is a real challenge. I hope it was alright. _

_And a Happy New Year to all those celebrating the Chinese calendar._

_(Note: 'riddle, wrapped in a mystery' is an extract taken from a quote made by Winston Churchill, in 1939. "I cannot forecast to you the action of Russia. It is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma; but perhaps there is a key. That key is Russian national interest.") _

_Thank so much, please do read and review. _


	92. Chapter Ninety One: Felici

_A/N: Hey, lovelies. I hope everyone is well and has had a good start to February. The weather is absolutely dismal; although that is to be expected considering I live in Britain. Let's hope spring is quick in coming around. Thanks for the reviews, I'm glad to hear it was well received. The sheer amount of dialogue, between so many characters, made my mind ache._

_Holidai: I was so glad to read your review; trying to make sure the dialogue told the whole story took ages to get right. Add into that a good deal of emotion and fourteen people all squashed into one room, definitely quite the challenge. So thank you so much for putting my fears to rest. _

_vxgt: Thanks, hope you enjoy this one._

_Dazzle me in purple: Thanks, I'm so happy to have reached ninety! I'll be even more ecstatic at reaching one hundred. Maybe…perhaps, toying around with the idea of a special? We shall see how much time I have. _

_viola1701e: I'm really pumped to write this Jasper, Bella relationship. I was keen not to jump straight into the whole vampire wars past, but now that it's an open subject, I like to think they can build upon it. You are completely right, having a friend that is not your immediate significant other, is really important. Without stimulation, or being challenged by those who have different views, I don't think a character can grow. So I hope Jasper and Bella and learn something from one another. Yeah, I still feel bad for Edward, but there will be lots more Bella/Edward. Thanks for reviewing. _

_TheVioletContradiction: Thank you so much. _

_Awkward Banana Tacos: ….You have a new pen-name. Oh my goodness that is awesome! Everything is forgiven. I have been revived by such a brilliant name. And you are far too kind; I'm sat here grinning like a fool. Your review is the ultimate pep talk, coiled into some kind of fantastical poem. I am always in awe at the sheer kindness of people who review my story. Kudos to you, and ongoing luck with your story! _

_Guest: Sorry sweetie, I'm going to have to disagree. Vampires can cry. It may be tearless but they can still cry; crying is defined as inarticulated sounds, especially of lamentation, and usually caused by some kind of grief, pain, or suffering. Crying can be both tearful, or void of tears. While no explanation of vampire anatomy was given by Stephenie Meyer, we have been told they cannot produce tears. But they can still display emotion. I have been as careful as possible to make sure when describing grief that I refrain from using the term 'crying'. I have used the term 'sobbing', but in terms of 'convulsions or trying to catch one's breath.' Thanks for the input. _

_Marliee Susan Way: Don't be silly, you are no pest! Thanks so much for picking up on that, I've gone back and remedied it. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the right to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Ninety One: Felici<span>

July 31st, 1950

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Allies. The term seemed ambiguous when placed alongside their name. Gone was it well standing meaning; an association, a connection, an apparent friendship between our covens. Now, it walked a thin line, existed sparingly against the current events. Once I had finished replaying my account of events, our future dealing with the Volturi were called to light. Thusly, opening up a whole tirade of opinions, ranging from both ends of the spectrum.

"I understand your hostilities towards this, truly I do." Eleazar began, his hands openly displayed in merit to his own feelings. "Our relationship with Aro, and his brothers has been irrevocably damaged, this much is true. However, we must also consider our political agenda. Many a time, our alliance with the Volturi has been a saving grace, a deterrent from those who would wish to move against us. I'm merely proposing to the outside world we remain on…good terms with them."

"I think we should include the Volturi themselves, within that category." Carlisle proposed. "At least for the time being."

"Until they dare to step foot within our territories." Tanya interjected, her lips curling as thoughts ran rampant. "I shall take great pleasure in questioning their methods."

"While I appreciated your sadistic methods, truly, you know how much I do." I told my staunch defender. "I agree that we have to put our bureaucratic position first. Unless I see fit to recall the favour that they now owe me, I think we should carry on as normal."

"And should they approach us again." Tanya replied, a little put out by these seemingly uneventful plans.

"I shouldn't expect to see them around for quite some time." I responded. "With such depleted numbers, it would be foolish to remain in the open for any length of time. If anyone caught wind of their numbers… it would be ample opportunity to overthrow them."

"It would be a real _shame_…if word got out." Tanya snipped in reply.

"Then we best keep our mouths shut." I agreed, keeping at bay a satirical smile.

"I seriously hope the two of you are joking." Kate said, considering us with a questioning gaze. "Sometimes it's really hard to tell."

"Amen." Emmett agreed.

"Are we joking?" Tanya questioned in a particularly loud whisper.

"I'm not sure…are we going to overthrow the Volturi?"

"We would have to travel to Volterra. I don't really like the idea of traveling by air."

"I'm not keen on the whole boat, ship, thing." I countered. "So I guess that's a negative, no overthrowing this year."

"I suppose, we shall just continue to harbour a deep and resentful hatred towards the authoritarian group by which we are governed." Tanya answered easily. "Just wait till they eventually lose all support, and some merry maker comes along and burns them all to the ground."

"Yes." I nodded, not quite sure if there as a correct response to that. "We shall wait for those merry makers."

"I hate to interrupt these mutinous, and frankly, well deserved plans for butchery." Began Rosalie. "But, I'd quite like to take a bath at some point, and change out of my clothes."

"I'd like to second that motion." Kate agreed, pulling distastefully at a rather dusty shirt dress. Several days of hard running had obviously taken its toll on the green block print; splattering's of mud and one or two missing buttons. "I hope there is lots of hot water, I've half a forest embedded in my hair."

"Plenty." Esme supplied. "Towels just to the left, as you're coming up the stairs."

With Rosalie and Alice taking to their own designated shower rooms, Esme offering the use of hers to Carmen, and male counterparts were forced to wait. I thusly took to showing Kate towards the one I used – and Edward - but having won the right to the largest room in the house, our bathroom was the smallest.

"Just to let you know, the temperature gauge is backwards. Hot is cold, and visa versa." I told her. "Feel free to use anything; I think I have pretty much every hair product currently on the market. It's all crammed in the cupboard under the sink."

"No problem." She replied, taking the towel I offered. "I'm not as demanding at Tanya when it comes to shampoo, anything goes with me."

"Excellent, because she used the last of the Silvikrin." I replied.

"For someone of her age, my sister is very gullible when it comes to human adverts. Especially beauty products." Kate divulged, her lips curving at the corners. "You ever want to get your argument across, put it to a jingle…and mission accomplished."

"Noted for future reference." I grinned. "If you pass your dress out, I can add it to the pile of washing. Do you need to borrow anything?"

"I should be fine; we managed to throw a couple things into a bag before we left." She responded.

"Thank you, by the way." I retorted. "For coming so quickly, I really appreciate everything. And…thanks for setting Edward on the straight. I know he didn't mean to start a dispute with Jasper."

She smiled wistfully, her hand moving to touch my arm in a warm regard. "We're family, that's what family do. And that's why the Volturi need to stay within the walls of Volterra; they have made quite a number of enemies this side of the Atlantic. All joking aside, it would not be impossible for us to spread word of their limited numbers. They are incredibly vulnerable." She replied rather darkly.

"If I was disappointed with this life, discontent or unhappy. Perhaps, vengeance would be mine." I replied on the quiet. "Perhaps, I should like to raise an army, strike them at their weakest." I could not deny such thoughts had passed through my mind, revenge would be so incredibly rewarding. So…satisfying. "But, I am quite content."

"It's not easy." Kate responded, leaning against the bathroom door frame. "I've had my fair share of unscrupulous run-ins with the Volturi. And for each one, there must be an infinite number of ways I would have liked to see them burn. Revenge would have been so gratifying." She fingered the towel threads. "But look how far we have both come, thoughts of vengeance must be just that…thoughts."

"I suppose when it comes down to it, better the devil you know, than the devil you don't."

"Exactly." She nodded. "Aro and his brothers may be deceitful, immoral, bastards, but if they were overthrown, who is to say what kind of beings would succeed them. They have taken on the toil of law enforcers; therefore they must forever live with the consequences of their self-declarations."

"You know, as much as I contest to hate them, I can understand why they did it." I began. "It made tactical sense. And if I had ever been in the same position, it's more than likely that I too would have made a similar decision." I twisted a familiar piece of hair around my finger, tugging on it lightly. "I hate that what they did makes sense, because then - in my mind - it puts a valid reason to what happened."

"While I cannot change the way you think. I know with complete certainty, that anyone who hears about recent goings on will entirely fault the Volturi. Their methods cannot be justified." She patted my arm once more. "Do not allow yourself to rationalize their doings, it makes us begin to question our own morals…and that is never good."

"You're right." I replied with a nod of accordance, musing over her declaration with a poised adeptness. "Please, don't let me keep you any longer. I'm sure you wanted to take that shower."

She waved away the notion, like it were merely dust in the air. "Don't be silly, the only person you are keeping from a shower is Garrett. And he's hardly overly concerned with his appearance. He was practically a wild man when I found him."

"Regardless, I'll get out of your way." I replied, allowing her the well-deserved respite of cleanliness, while I retired elsewhere. I contemplated returning downstairs, to join in with the banter- now having moved into the living room- and from the sound of the commentary and rapid fire engines, to watch some kind of stock car racing.

But it seemed becoming enthralled with racing was not the call of the day; sometimes there are just instances when being alone is the best possible occurrence. And this was one of them. So a little way down the corridor, I continued. Before stealing away at the last moment, behind the obscure little door and up the wrought iron staircase. Eventually, finding my way to the top of the house, where the gables sloped slightly and the windows were ambiguously shaped. Back once again to the safety of my own space, where my worldly possessions lived, alongside a moment of brilliant silence.

Just enough time to consider Kate's wise words with some deliberation.

While her response was a comfort, it was difficult to change my own stance on the matter. The only thing I was quite sure of was my immediate anger at them. It burnt far stronger than everything else and encompassed most other jumbled ideas. Pushing aside any attempts my mind made to rationalise. I was allowed to feel rage. It was my right to hold onto animosity.

And I could hold onto that kind of resentment for a very, very long time. Alongside the _favour _that was now owed to me. Should I ever need their aid: to which I would rather spit nails, than ask, I would force their hand.

The notion was somewhat empowering. I hoped wherever the Volturi were at this very instance, that they were nervous and uneasy. I hoped our altercations had weakened them to the point of near insanity, forcing them to watch their backs closely. Pushing them back into the crevasses of their stone castle. While I may not have been able to get my own revenge, I hoped their losses would serve against their countenances.

With a lighter demeanor, I was able to sit down at my dressing table. Under the pretense of tending to my hair. A homely duty to my visage, domestication, and pride of dress.

Each pin made a metallic clink as it fell into the depths of an old tobacco tin, one after another until the noise became almost rhythmic. Sometimes permeated by the sound of a brief summer wind against the window glass, or a muffled commotion from the television set, some two floors below.

When I was quite sure my hair was free from any sort of tangle or knot and quite done with endlessly brushing, I turned my attention to other pursuits.

Tidying a bounty or records, turned into avidly listening to several on the old phonograph. Studying the backs of their cardboard covers and reminiscing over songs I hadn't heard in years. From the roaring delights of the nineteen twenties Jazz age, to the swing of the war years. We seemed to have collected a little of everything; although my taste was by far supreme.

Half way through sorting the records into genres – for that seemed most logical - with some swing playing in the background, I heard the cupboard door open. It lacked the tentativeness of a possible visitor, along with the knock that usually preceded anyone wanting my attention. So it was little surprise to see Edward suddenly within our room.

He didn't seem at all perturbed to see the slightly messy piles of vinyls, or surprised to see that I was marooned amongst the stacks. "You're organising." Came his declaration.

"What gave it away?" I queried, tossing an unwanted album towards the stairs. Watching as it skidded across the others, before coming to rest on the lip of the first step.

"Is that why there are two on the bottom steps?" He questioned, using his foot to push it away from its precarious balancing act.

"Yeah, too much finesse with the throwing." I responded offhandedly. "But it hardly matters; I'm not keeping those anyhow. They are pointlessly taking up space."

He nodded slowly and refrained from asking any more questions. Instead, he removed his scruffy jacket, hooking it on the top banister spindle, before coming and sitting adeptly against the wall. Out stretched legs reaching my side, while he began looking through the nearest pile. There was a tentative silence between us, buffered only by the soft music and the sound of cardboard covers gliding over each other. While it was not uncomfortable - for I struggled to even consider the possibility of being uncomfortable in his presence- the silence was pressured with expectancy.

I didn't wish to push him for a resolution, he'd speak only when he was quite ready. And I would be there to openly respond to him.

While placing a great handful of smaller LP's back onto the shelves, the current playing record finally came to the end of its B side. Before I could delegate another, Edward was already upon it, lifting the needle with his index finger and putting down the replacement. There was a slight crack to begin with; dust residue from the open side of the cardboard sleeve. I had expected to hear something classical, possibly Ralph Vaughan Williams, or Castelnuovo-Tedesco. But never did I expect to hear the outlandish sound of twenties Jazz.

I'm sure my neck cricked with the sheer force of my head turn. But there was no mistake in his choice, for he thusly adjusted the volume.

"It's been a while," I smiled nostalgically. "Since I've listened to this album. I'd forgotten I owned it...Toledo, I bought it Toledo. From the record shop on the way back from the shopping district. The owner recommended it to me, said I looked like the sort who dabbled in Jazz."

"I distinctly recall your crimson lipstick and very short hem..." He mused.

"Neither to which you protested." I argued pointedly, pressing my hand against the spines to align them on the shelves.

"I protested a little about the lipstick." He said. "The dye transfer stained my lips and cheeks. I had to scrub off the rouge every time we kissed."

"And yet it never stopped you."

"True."

"So what's with the sudden nostalgic throwback?" I wondered. "You've never been overly keen of this…" I waved my hands towards the player, "style of music."

"I was under the impression you liked it." He replied plainly. "Seeing as I heard nothing but this genre for several years."

"I do like it." I contested, just a little stirred that it was for my benefit. Having someone think of me was always a pleasant feeling, and even such a small act of kindness was enough to perturb the unsettled emotions that were currently quashed down. But with a deep breath; forced out at an even pace, I was able to pacify the worst. "I do like it." I assured again, returning yet another stack to the shelves. Pondering over the ridiculous fragility of my current mind-set.

He continued to toy with the volume, twisting the rather sketchy dial until the sound was to his liking. Before returning to aid me in ordering records upon the top shelf; a height that required some stretching on my behalf. But from my peripheral field, I watched him stoop down to collect a hand, before taking note of the wall to his immediate left, as he rose to stack them. Considering the nearly pristine wall with a little apprehension.

"You must thank Irina, for patching up the fist holes in our wall. She's a dab hand at household repairs." I replied, catching him quite unprepared.

"I'm sorry about the wall; I wasn't expecting that spot to be plaster board." He said immediately, reaching out to touch the wall where he had made the repetitive mars. Clearly a little impressed with such handy work. "But I'm not sorry for why I did it." Came his final decisive answer.

"Oh, and why did you punch my plaster board?" I questioned, cocking my brow in expectation.

With instantaneous effect he stopped his occupation; now watching my face with careful consideration, as if trying to determine the meaning behind the question. I kept my brow raised, wondering if it were possible for him to guess.

Eventually he exhaled a ragged breath. "You heard about the… disagreement between Jasper and I." It was not a question, just a confirming statement.

"I heard it was a little more than a disagreement." I pronounced, impressed he had seen straight through my guise.

"I will not be apologising over that either." He proclaimed pointedly.

"Good, because I don't want your apology. It will do me no favours." I replied decidedly. "But have you cleared the air with Jasper?"

His silence was enough to declare the negative. "I do not trust my temper around Jasper, not at least for the time being." Followed by him running his hand through his hair. "We have very different outlooks when it comes to some _situations_."

"Funny." I could not help but interject. "For I think Jasper and I have very similar thought processes. Considering the situation…I would have presumed myself dead. The odds did not look particularly good." I regretted the callousness of them when he visibly recoiled over my words. It seemed trying to explain or better this situation was just making it infallibly worse. I immediately wished I'd kept my mouth shut.

"Would..." He swallowed thickly, "Would you rather I presumed you…dead. Would that have been more logical?"

"No." I almost shouted, shaking my head and reaching out to grab his arm. "No, no. I don't want you to ever give up on me. Because I'll always do everything within my ability to return. I just meant Jasper doesn't know us. He has nothing to merit his logistic upon. Had things been reversed, had it been Jasper or Alice, who had been taken… wouldn't we presume the worst? We have yet to understand their characters, and they, in turn, have yet to completely learn about us."

"So..." He began. "What would you have me do?"

"Be your everyday _charming_ self…and if that is too difficult, being civilised should suffice." I replied, exhaling in slight triumph. "I just want everyone to get along. Seeing as we are all living under the same roof."

"Very well." He sighed. "I shall be as civilised as can be."

"That's all I can ask of you." I replied, knowing it was the best answer I was to receive at the moment. And having no desire to push it any further, or dig myself a bigger hole.

We continued sorting and stacking, occasionally throwing the odd record towards the stairs if it no longer held any interest. One or two being flung a little too far, ending up a casualty of the fall, suffering their fate on the iron steps below. Until it became a little too enjoyable to throw them haphazardly, hearing them crack and splinter as they bounced downwards.

"Seeing as we are currently making requests…" He began once more, having being forced to clean up the shattered plastic below. "I think we should go away."

"Away?" I questioned. Considering him from beneath my lashes as he moved along the shelves, until we were _conveniently _side by side. Wondering if he had taken leave of his senses. "Away where?"

His shrug was enough to settle any worry of irrational plans on his part. "Where ever you want." Came the reply.

"You mean, like a holiday?" I questioned once more, just to make sure I completely understood.

"Where ever, for however long you want. As long as it's just the two of us, I have little care to the location." He stated quite decisively.

But I was already sold on the idea; it had been far too long since we had taken any kind of break or holiday. How nice it would be to just be alone for a little while. If near death experiences and the past couple of days had imparted any wisdom upon me, it was being grateful to those who could tolerate me. And goodness knows, Edward was the one who put up with me the most. "Very well." I decided. "I shall indulge your request."

"You make it sound like such a trial." He jibed, nudging me further and further along the shelves.

"No, I was actually thinking how nice it would be." I announced, standing my ground against his coquettish pushing. "Not to be on the receiving end of household sex-capades and then having to deal with Emmett's bawdy taunts...I am never quick enough to reply with a lewd one of my own."

"Not that it would embarrass him." Edward supplied. "So to sum it up, we're going on holiday to...have sex-capades of our own. Yes?"

I gasped with a mockingly loud intake of breath, slapping his arm as if offended. "You are putting very forward words into my mouth, I said no such thing."

He leant over me with a roguish kind of look. "Ah, yes. But you thought it." Came the unsubtle truth of my own wandering mind.

"So what if I did?" I declared suggestively, looking up towards his towering height and daring him to make a move.

But make a move he did.

Already upon me, pressing us together. Hands having bunched up my dress, compressing the fabric in the fists of palms. Lips having found the tentative new scars about my throat, the ones that tingled strangely when met with any such contact.

I disregarded any soft kiss, or polite caress, just met his feverish desperation with my own delirious need. It felt like far too long since we had been able to be so close, so candid, and without care.

Stacks of records may have toppled with our clumsy footsteps, but little regard was given when such physical astuteness was promised.

For the first time in a while, things looked a little more auspicious.

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><p><em>AN: Oh goodness, I feel we have almost finished rounding up this part of the story. I can't wait until the next subplot. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed. _


	93. Chapter Ninety Two: Litus

_A/N: It's amazing what can be accomplished when you have a couple of days off. I was re-reading back over some previous chapters, when I came across a mention of the beach. Vampires should go to the beach, so along came this idea. Thanks for all those who reviewed the last chapter. And hello to the very sudden influx of alerts, favours and new readers. _

_Holidai: I'm glad you liked, it wasn't particularly a favourite of mine. It didn't help that I edited while half asleep, you can never get a feeling for the chapter when you're sleepy. But happy to know it was well received and you liked the conversations. It was nice to write Kate, I like to think she is the most level headed of the sisters. And then of course, a big dose of Bella/Edward is always needed. Thanks for reviewing. _

_vxgt: Thanks for reviewing!_

_viola1701e: Thank you for the review. Delighted to hear you like the family, it's nice to have them all together again, play with some other characters. This next upcoming subplot (if all goes to plan) will be the final one. As for Jasper, he will get his moment to shine, I hope this chapter goes a little way to him gaining some independence. You are so right, I always felt Jasper didn't really get enough attention in the books, he's such an amazing character. I think he has a lot more to offer. _

_46 Husbands Later: Oh, I'm going to have to keep that under wraps. But with George floating around…I guess it's not impossible. Thanks for reviewing. _

_Awkward Banana Tacos: I seriously love reading your review, it's like I'm being poetically serenaded with some really kick ass language. Kudos! I think your new pen-name is awesome. Thanks so much for the continuing support, even with your school work. It's always nice to hear from you. Hope you enjoy this chapter too._

_keljvt: Thank you very much for the review. Delighted to hear you are enjoying, and I hope it continues throughout the next. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the right to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Ninety Two: Litus<span>

August 4th, 1950

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It was the type of day that humans spoke fondly of during the long winter months of the year, reminding each other of the glorious days spent frolicking in the warmest of summer sunshine. Perhaps recalling long rambling walks, a leisurely drive, or maybe like us, a trip to the coastline and the great rolling beaches.

While Seaside city lay some ten or so miles north of the house, the beach was only a stone's throw away, through the dense greenery of Ecola State Park. Other than a couple of investigatory tours, we had yet to make use of the broad sands and coastal scenery. But with such a clear, scorching day upon us, Carlisle having a day off work, and we no longer with guests to entertain, it seemed like a prime day to explore.

So we found a bounty of beach worthy accessories, large parasols, deck chairs, blankets and rugs, even a cricket set. Digging out our beach worthy wear, hats, sunglasses, items of white linen or light fabrics, and even a swimsuit or two for those feeling particularly adventurous. Once ladened with everything one should require, we strolled our way towards the coastline, moving parallel along the cliffs until we found the perfect secluded spot. Far out of the reach of mortal kind.

In order to reach the sands below, we passed along a rather treacherous cliff path, zigzagging to and fro like a fisherman's walkway. But with no issues – bar Emmett deciding to jump the last twenty feet - we all made it down successfully.

The beach lay within quite a deep cove, with jutting peninsulas both left and right. Tumbles of rock and stone lay at the base of the cliff, becoming smaller and smaller, until they became a fine light sand. Eventually meeting the sea. But never had I seen the sea such a colour, such a charmingly picturesque blue, made fantastically brilliant by the azure of the sky. They met at the horizon with such likeness, that it was almost impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

There was a slight onshore breeze, enough to bring with it a tentative temperature flux and the scent of the salt water. But never enough to cause any whitecaps, so the water resembles something like glass.

One could find no fault with the current scenery. Even Rosalie, who had stated her displeasure at the sand, gave no other criticism.

"Oh, it's so pretty." Alice gushed, holding on to the back of her new pink ribbon hat, as she gazed upwards towards the sky. "My visions do not do it justice."

"Is it your first visit to the beach?" Esme questioned, laying down one of the large picnicking rugs we have bought.

She nodded eagerly, mindful of her sunglasses. "Yep, my very first visit. But it has already met every expectation, tenfold."

While most of us continued to set out the blanket and parasols, Emmett was of no such patience. His right boating shoe sailed across the sands, quickly followed by his left. Then, without warning, off came his shirt and trousers. Luckily – and to the relief of everyone - he had swim shorts beneath.

"Last one in is a rotting bear corpse." He yelled with a hoot.

"Carcass." Edward corrected. "It's… carcass." It didn't even matter, for Emmett had pegged it across the sand, shining in all his glory, and dived head first into the water before hearing the response.

Rosalie let out a groan from her deck chair. "I'm married to that."

"Don't pretend like you don't enjoy his antics." I told her, sitting legs straight on the rug next to her. "We all know you love it."

"He's an idiot." She replied, glancing at me over the top of her sunglasses.

"Yes, but he's your idiot." I remarked.

She made no response, just placed a magazine in front of her face to signal the end of the conversation. It was taken to be thusly true.

"Edward, get in the water." Emmett called from the sea, only his head visible.

"No, thanks." My husband replied, settling himself down next to me, legs stretching out far beyond mine.

"Come on." Emmett yelled again, comically bobbing up and down with the current. "Water's not cold at all; I won't even try to drown you. Don't be a prissy."

If there was one thing I knew about Edward's character, it was his abhorrence of losing, or being challenged. This was a manly challenge and thusly could not be turned down…_men are very strange._ Within a second he was upon his feet, chucking his shoes and clothes in the sand, before taking off towards the water.

"I'm married to that." I declared, standing to retrieve both their heaped clothing.

"Don't pretend like you don't enjoy his antics." Came Rosalie's brilliantly timed reply, never looking up from her reading.

"Touché."

There came a second and thrice invite to everyone to join, but we all politely declined, leaving them to race and attempt to drown each other till their hearts content. Alice went down to the water several times, hiking up her skirt to paddle in the shallows, but never ventured any further. Jasper on the other hand, sat comfortably under the shade of the parasol, watching on with his usual attentiveness. But gone was the tense body language, his watching seemed to be more scenery appreciation than anything else.

"I forgot to give you those certificates, Isabella." Carlisle told me, seemingly having just had the thought occur to him. "They're in my case at home."

"Excellent." I pronounced, looking upwards from my stomach bound lounging. "I have a meeting with my bank manager next Wednesday, to close my current account. Then I can send off the certificates, once they have approved those and sent through the new purveyor of property documents, I can then have the inheritance moved into another account. I should be up-to-date then."

"It's getting more and more complicated." He stated.

"I don't particularly like using the banks; but it's not safe, or wise, to have so much within the house. Even with a safe." I related, placing my bookmark in its designated place. "I'd much prefer placing it all into the offshore accounts, but the interest is not as good, and quick deposits are not possible."

"Not to mention the taxes." Carlisle added.

"The government is quite keen for our business to stay within the US." I affirmed. "Twice now I've gotten _recommendations_ to invest in military purposes."

"You are not the only one." He continued, folding up his newspaper and placing it upon his lap.

"I don't like that they were aware of the potential sums within my bank account." I mused with a frown. "The offshore accounts are bound by that particular organisations regulations, I doubt any sort of information leaked from them."

"I should think it extremely unlikely." Carlisle summed. "They have many extremely large account holders, the threat of legal action would be devastating. The loss of reputation alone."

"Which points quite accusingly towards onshore accounts." I related, before twisting around to consider the blonde on my other side. "Rosalie, who do you bank with now? US based?"

"Seaside City Bank, but I don't have a substantial amount in there. Couple of thousand." She replied without missing a beat. "Most of mine is now offshore."

Carlisle and I shared a look, with both of us choosing the same company to bank with, it seemed like there was an unfortunate leak in the line. "It looks as though I shall be paying my bank manager a visit too." He summed.

"Maybe we should go back to hiding it under the floorboards and in mattresses." I retaliated.

"Or we could just get a bigger safe." Rosalie supplied with a bored sigh.

"Yes, indeed, we could do that." Carlisle smiled. "How big will this big safe need to be?"

"Practically gigantic." I jibed. "Fire, flood, and burglar proof…we may as well build an underground vault."

"You know that's not a horrendous idea." Carlisle admitted. "Maybe at the next house, though. We seem to have everything perfected here, best not ruin it." That was definitely for Esme's benefit, for she nodded quite decisively. She probably would not take well to us digging up any part of the house. Emmett gave her enough tribulation with his heavy-handedness.

And right now it looked as though he was trying to scale the cliffs over the other side of the cove, once high enough, he just dropped like a rock into the water. Cliff diving without the dive… more falling with intent. It didn't help that Edward was goading him to jump from a higher point.

It did, however, look like a good deal of fun.

And I did have a very pretty swimsuit on beneath my dress, navy blue with the most darling white trim. It was just…some of my recent scars were still quite prominent, especially the ones around my neck. My older ones, while still visible, had faded to silvery marks as time had passed. But these new ones were still raised and pronounced.

I wasn't afraid of displaying them, for the family had seen and become used to my old ones. It was just these new ones; they were a little more savage looking. And we were all having such a pleasant day; I didn't wish to ruin it by bringing up things we were trying to put behind us.

Alas, with pent up energy not destined to be used in swimming pursuits, I decided there was no issue partaking in a little exploration. I found my hat again, but left my shoes behind; they'd undoubtedly get wet should I walk a little too close to the shore. I offered the invite to those around me, but most were too engrossed in their reading, so declined for the time being.

"I'll come. If that's alright." Jasper requested, looking up at me from his shaded seat.

I was a little surprised by his slight uncharacteristic forwardness, but nonetheless asserted myself to be as encouraging as possible. "Of course." I nodded.

While he drew to his full height and dusting off the sand from his person, I noted Alice had drifted down the beach, now watching and encouraging Emmett as he scaled even higher. Without her present, I wondered if he were forcing himself to make small talk, or whether there were a point to this walk.

Or maybe he just liked walking.

He very kindly picked up one of the lace parasols, holding it aloft and gesturing for me to walk alongside him under its shadow. All too gladly did I take up his offer, stepping aside him as we began a quiet stroll towards the very far end of the inlet, my hat now within my hands. Jasper kept a slow pace, obviously used to compensating for someone of a smaller stature and thusly a smaller stride.

We walked a little way in silence, choosing a path across the damp sand, where on occasion the waves washed over our feet.

"I have been informed, rather dutifully; it's your birthday tomorrow." Jasper began, picking such a safe topic to start with.

"Indeed, August fifth is upon me again. It comes around so quickly." I stated, pressing my feet down heavily to make impressions in the sand. "But I thought having a summer birthday would be best, the weather is lovely most of the time, and once the sun sets, I have the evening light to do as I please alongside the humans."

"You considered it very wisely." He smiled tentatively. "I suppose you have made light of the situation at hand."

"Well, I hardly thought it fair, that I should miss out on having my birth date celebrated, just because I could not recall the exact day." I retaliated. "But with so many, we have taken to just celebrating big birthdays. Decades and such."

"Very sensible." He agreed.

"So tell me, has Alice designated herself a birthday?" I wondered, trying to instigate another question and keep the flow going.

"Not yet." He supplied. "But I've no doubt when she hears of your self-designation, it will not be long. Although, how do you go about selecting the year?"

"Guess." I replied plainly. "I just estimated my age and thusly gave myself a birth year. Very scientific."

"How…deductive."

The conversation lapsed into silence, continuing to amble down the beach and slowing making headway towards the cove peninsula in the distance. While not terribly uncomfortable, I wished to end the silence, but for the life of me, I could not think of a single thing to instigate conversation. So it continued.

We crossed over a cluster of rocks, strewn all the way from the beach cliffs to the sea. Meeting the water's edge in a flourish of little rock pools; slowly being uncovered as the tide went out. In a very unneeded manner, he aided me in crossing over. All the time, diligently making sure we were both covered by the shade offered by the parasol.

Even now, at such a distance from the others, the sound of Emmett's shouts and dives could still be heard. Not even the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was enough to blot out his timbre.

"He doesn't let much stop him." Jasper commented, as we turned to watch Emmett leap from the cliff side, arms flailing as he fell the impressive drop. "Has he always been so vibrant?"

"From the moment he awoke." I educated. "Never have I seen anyone take to immortality, the way Emmett did. Everything in his stride."

"And a fine climber of trees." He added.

"I believe that is a trait transferred over from his human life, there was some talk of hunting bears from trees. Although... I was under the impression bears were adept climbers." I mused, turning back around to resume our walking. "Then again, I'm no great expert when it comes to human hunting tactics."

"I hate to questions Emmett's hunting tactics, but wasn't he a victim of a mauling?"

"Oh, Emmett and the bear." I could not help but smile. "It's like some sort of saga. From the initial tragedy, to a vicious hunt for revenge. But should you want the real tale, complete with elaborate hand gestures and sound effects, then you must request it from Emmett."

"I shall keep that noted for future reference." Jasper replied.

There came a very natural pause, where I could almost feel he wished to continue onwards, but perhaps deliberated over how to express it. I didn't wish to force any declaration, so pretended to simply be content watching the shimmering horizon. In the far, far distance, one could just make out the dark blot of a vessel, maybe sailing from one of the ports in Puget Sound, heading south for Coos Bay.

"What of the others?" He finally interjected. "Integration is not something that comes naturally. My gift has been brandished with the name empathy, and indeed, while I can sense some emotional traits; it does not mean that I understand them. Anything I would do well to know?"

"You are asking one who is still learning." I replied, watching the lace fringe of the parasol flutter in the wind. "I found anger and malice, much easier to comprehend; there was usually a valid reason behind them. But when it came to kindness and traits of nicety… it took a while to understand those. But people do act without malicious agendas. It's just training yourself to see those…which unfortunately takes time. At least, that is what I have found."

He nodded to himself, seeming to consider the tangent of the conversation.

"But please don't take my words as any kind of accurate advice, most of the time I'm simply blundering through."

He laughed at this, a deep baritone chuckle that resounded nicely. "Perhaps I should try and live by that advice. Blunder my way through."

"I'm afraid it's the most sound advice I can give you."

Eventually we made it to the craggy peninsular, deciding to sit upon an outcrop of rocks and admire the scenery before us, while the waves crashed just below. The conversation did not turn into anything complex, but remained on simple trivial matters. I learnt Jasper had been to the beach on one other occasion, while he could not recall the exact location, it had been when he was just a child. The only memory he had, was having a sea gull try to steal his lunch.

He told me of an ongoing aversion to seabirds.

I told him the story of my own animal ventures. My cat in Toledo, who had his own chair and set atop the wireless until it overheated; exploding with a bang and scaring the poor thing half to death.

We, who declared small talk and tête-à-têtes a folly within our repertoire, looked to be doing extremely well. There may still have been things we needed to overcome, but those were topics not suited to such a glorious day. But I liked to think we had discovered a more solid ground and that I knew where I stood with Jasper.

There was a decision to head back, upon spotting Emmett had climbed to the top of the cliff, just about making out his manically waving arms as he goaded us into watching him jump. He leapt from the cliff face and immediately tucked up into a ball shape, meeting the water surface with a loud plop and plume of water. Upon surfacing, we could hear his yells of jubilance and amusement at the whole thing.

"I'm partly surprised Edward hasn't been challenged into doing it." I admitted, as we once again cross the little patch of rocks half way down the sands. "Or even Alice, she seems rather up for things."

"I'm not sure she's overly keen on swimming." Jasper replied. "Every time she goes to the water's edge, I try to send a little confidence her way. Not too much, I don't want her to know." He admitted with a smile. "She gets rather defensive if she can't do it herself."

"I can relate." I replied cautiously, suddenly glad Edward was not with us, I could almost hear his scoff.

"Do you swim?" He questioned.

"On occasion." I affirmed, watching my feet as a particularly boisterous wave clambered up the sand and covered them. "It's been a while since I last took the plunge. But I do like swimming."

"But…not today?" Came the query.

"Maybe." I replied, wondering if he could sense my apprehension over the matter. But even if he did, there was no inclination of his knowledge. I realised this was a trait I very much admired in him, the uncanny ability to understand when an issue did not need to be pushed. Something that required a deal of patience and understanding. While he stated empathy was not his strong point, I think he underestimated his ability.

The quietness we had gotten used to upon the walk back, was unceremoniously broken as Emmett once again attempted something profoundly chancy. Now taking a run and jump from the top of the cliff, with a rather impressive swan dive. His ego further inflated by Alice and her enthusiastic claps and Edward coercing him to do a somersault.

"Of all the things, you shall never be bored with us." I told him, watching my muscular brother climbing back up the rock face, having been successfully encouraged by my husband. "Never mind the occasional drama, those are always outweighed by the good times we have."

"That is one factor I have duly noted." He affirmed.

Finally, we returned back to the cluster of family who remained seated on the sands. While I returned to my spot next to Rosalie, Jasper - with parasol in hand - continued onwards towards the others. I did not return to my previous book reading occupation, but instead predicted how long it would be before a certain member of this family would bombard me with the first question.

She tipped down the corner of her magazine, watching until Jasper finally stepped out of range. "How strange." Rosalie drawled. "We were not expecting that."

"No, me neither." I replied to her bait.

"You looked very cosy." She began slyly, unable to keep her interest at bay.

"Cosy? That would suggest an air of intimacy. You will be disappointed to learn there was none." I began. "However, I found him to be very agreeable. Definitely one who improved on further acquaintance."

"Well," She replied, quite put out by such a response. "How _lovely_." Returning back to her magazine without so much as another word. Only to be engaged by Carlisle, as he pondered over their ongoing car related issues. The possibility of investing in another vehicle, seeing as were a coven or eight.

But I liked to think, through all her apparent snide and cynical attitude; Rosalie would eventually come to accept the newcomers…or at least tolerate them. She did eventually become fond of me, even if it did take a decade or so.

"I'm rather surprised that you aren't swimming." Esme queried.

I moved from my spot between Rosalie and Carlisle, allowing their conversation to continue, as I took the spot at Esme's feet. "Maybe, later." I smiled, allowing her to remove the pins from my hair and toy with its length.

"That's not like you." She replied quietly. "Everything alright?"

"It's nothing really." I told her, not wanting to cause any unneeded worry. "Just me being silly."

"I'm sure that's not true." She remarked, beginning to braid my hair in some pretty style. "I have never known your worries to be silly or trivial."

"Ah, you are far too kind to me Esme." I told her. "But I do have very silly worries."

"Well then." She replied quite decisively. "I know you are strong enough to overcome silly worries. You can't belittle the strength of your convictions, for I have witnessed it enough."

There was no room for denial, for her voice was unusually pointed. But I wondered what kind of person she saw me as, and how much did it differ from the way I perceived myself. While most of the time I felt as though my convictions were always split. The short, sharp principle matter, verses, the sentimental view. It never swayed evenly, sometimes principles were best, other times a sentimental view.

Maybe I was being a tad too sentimental over these scars; thinking the family would worry over them, when it was me who was fretting so much. Maybe this was a time to be pragmatic. They weren't pretty. But they were here to stay, I couldn't get rid of them. Those were the hard facts.

"Now." She began once more, combing her fingers through the loose bottom half of my hair. "Do you have any plans for tomorrow?"

"Not during the day. But Rosalie and I were going to see Father of the Bride, the evening showing. At the drive-in theatre, the one just off the highway." I replied. "You're more than welcome to join us. I'll extend the invite to Alice, and it could just be us girls."

"That sounds lovely." She exclaimed. "Have you no plans with Edward?"

"Well, seeing as we're going away next month, I'm sure I can persuade him into taking me out someplace. A belated birthday gift."

"And Calgary seems like a very interesting place, lots of people rave about the entertainment, especially the Calgary Stampede. Oh, and of course you have all the delights of the Canadian Rockies." Esme encouraged.

"If they're as beautiful as stated, and the hunting is good, we should all go up together. A big hunting excursion." I replied, watching my bare feet shimmer as the shade pulled back and the sun's rays shone upon them.

"I think that would be splendid, like a family holiday." She declared happily, nimble fingers finishing their work on my hair. I ran my own across the French braids either side of my head, before twisting my hand around the long ponytail. "There." She stated, smoothing down the left braid. "That should keep your hair from your face, should you decide to go for a swim."

"I am always in awe at your skill, Esme." I told her. "It feels very nice not to have a horde of pins stuck left, right and center."

"Well, thank you kindly." She said.

Tentatively, then, did I move from the shadow offered by the parasol, braving it into the sunlight minus my hat. But with the sun past its noon positioning, now ever so slightly inclined towards the west, it did not shine upon my face. Instead offering a delightfully warm sensation against my back.

I walked a little way towards the water, stopping just before the waves could catch my feet. Watching as the damp sand began to dry immediately once the water had receded, before being drenched again once the sea came back up the shore. Foam bringing up a tumble of rocks and shells, that rolled back and forth with the repetitive movement.

Far out from this point, the great expanse of the North Pacific lay.

If one were to begin swimming from this very point, they would not make land until they reached Asia. Even with such a distance, it was strangely comforting to know there was something out there, that it simply did not just go on forever. A great expanse of nothingness.

There was nothing to fear when you were indestructible, when you couldn't drown, or die from hypothermia.

But I could understand why the mortals looked upon it with such trepidation. One great feat that they could not tame.

"Are you just going to stand there and look at it, or actually get in?" Rosalie queried suddenly, now away from her deck chair and at my side. A large white hat sat primly on her head, the dip in its brim surely obscuring her view.

"Why?" I wondered slyly. "You coming in as well?"

"God no." She replied dismissively. "Fresh water swimming is fine, but salt water is a whole other matter. You're on your own."

I was extremely tempted to push her in, but she was wearing her favourite sandals…and the repercussions weren't worth the brief moment of hilarity that would ensue. I may even be forced to pay for my own cinema ticket come tomorrow.

I weighed up my own current circumstances, alongside her prompt with a calculated view. But only really succeeded in learning that I still really would quite like to go swimming. With my hair now up, a brilliantly successful pep talk from Esme, and Emmett having way too much fun for one person alone, I decided to give away with caution.

"Here." I told her, tapping her arm repetitively. "Hold my dress."

"Just remember to double knot that halter neck." She told me. "We don't want any incidents; especially considering _your_ endowments."

I double knotted with a scowl.

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><p><em>AN: Thanks once again to all those reviewing, I always love hearing from you all. Please do keep them coming, feedback really does keep me going. And it's always nice to know I have a receptive audience. _


	94. Chapter Ninety Three: Iter Itineris

_A/N: Hey all, I hope everyone is well, and so far March is treating you good. I'm absolutely delighted with the feedback from the last chapter, it turned out to be a real favourite of mine and I really enjoyed writing it. So getting such positive feedback was great. I can't believe we are getting so close to six hundred reviews, three hundred thousand words, and nearing this stories third birthday. So many awesome milestones. I am currently working on something to commemorate these things… but more on that nearer the time. _

_So thanks for all the reviews, I love getting feedback and replying. Welcome to those who have recently joined, and thanks to those favouring and alerting both this story and myself. _

_TheVioletContradiction: I can't help adding a bit of fluff after all the unpleasantness. And it's really nice to have Jasper and Bella finding common ground. Thanks for reviewing._

_Holidai: Thank you so much for the lovely review. Not to worry, I'm planning on so much more Bella/Edward fluff. _

_viola1701e: I'm so glad you like Jasper, I really wanted him to get a chance to start building relationships with others, and he has so much to offer as a character. I think you and I have very similar feelings when it comes to Alice, I like her, but never quite warmed to her as I did with the others. But she too will get a chance to develop her relationships, I want to expand on them as much as possible. Thanks for the review, and I hope you like this one too._

_AnneleeJ: Oh, thank you so much! I absolutely love getting reviews, and while it would be nice to have more, I think my reviewers are complete darlings for putting up with me for this long. I really wanted a story that kind of focused on everyday vampire life, the idea of trying to build a family with a bunch of slightly dysfunctional members. And an Edward/Bella relationship that was normal, and equal on both sides. So I'm really glad to hear you liked that. I've tried to do as much research as possible on appropriate era slang, each character has had a very different upbringing and even socioeconomic backgrounds, which can affect the way they speak. I complete agree, out of context slang or abbreviations tend to put me off. Once again thank you so much, I hope to hear from you again. _

_BadassEri90: I'm so glad you're back! Good to hear you liked the chapter, and Jasper and Alice taking the steps to integrate themselves into the family. Everyone is alright, slowly getting back to normal. You are always too kind when it comes to my writing… it makes me ridiculously giggly. And I'm always willing to share. Emmett is so brilliant to write, I don't know how I survived without his antics. Once again thank you so much for taking the time to review. And with such a faithful reader, I hope to have these out as quickly as possible. _

_46 Husbands Later: Thanks for the review. I had a lot of fun writing it, so I'm glad that translated well. Hope you enjoy this one too. _

_vxgt: Thanks for the feedback. I really like writing Bella and Jasper friendship, it's a little tentative still, but it's beginning to happen. _

_Awkward Banana Tacos: I think we needed a little joyous lift after all the drama of the previous sub-plot. And who can resist another little jab at Bella's endowments? Oh bless you, how brilliantly awkward. Here in London, while on public transport, it's an unwritten rule that you make no eye contact with any other passengers, and don't even think about starting up a conversation. But it is acceptable to read over other people's shoulders. I suppose if anyone were to read over your shoulder they would be extremely confused over a boob related joke. I'm very envious of you having time off school, I wish I did. But then again, all it takes in Britain is the mere mention of cold weather and we all completely over react. Thanks once again for the review, hope I don't keep you waiting too long. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Ninety Three: Iter Itineris<span>

10th September, 1950

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...

..

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"What are the chances?" Emmett announced humorously, brushing his hand on his trousers and picking himself up from his crouch by the wheel arch. "Two flat tires."

"Pretty unlikely." I agreed, stepping down from the car to view the damage. Watching out for the muddy spots and puddles that seemed to litter the verge.

"There was obviously something on the road." Rosalie interjected with a scowl, kicking the flat tire with the sole of her shoe. "Brilliant. We haven't even crossed over to Washington yet."

"There was a gas station in the last town, I'm sure they have a repair shop. Or can, at least tell us where to find one." Edward responded, looking back towards the direction we had just come. "Two miles or so, back along the road. Let's just hope the rain holds off."

"Here." I called, passing him the rather large umbrella we stowed beneath the car seats. "I'd rather we arrived at our destination intact and not…damp."

"Just make sure the other spare is fine before you go." Rosalie said, having already backed the delegation of roles. "I'd rather we didn't have to waste time making two trips. And for goodness sake, make sure you get the right one."

"Yes, ma'am." Emmett saluted violently, having already accepted the role without so much as a muttering of unjustness.

The spare tire was thusly checked and deemed to be in perfect working order. So with a need for only the one tire, Edward and Emmett began to traipse back along the road in search of the town. Leaving Rosalie and I in charge of the car and the stack of cases currently crammed into the trunk. Signalling our current attempts to a holiday venture; which had once again gotten off to a rather shaky start.

While she placed her feet upon the seat in front; and proceeded to paint her nails an alarming shade of pink, I escaped the polish fumes and instead sort to explore the grass verge. Idly walking along the concrete line, admiring the flowers that were unfortunately on the wrong side of the embankment.

"I think we must be the most unlucky persons." Rosalie articulated, blowing lightly on her shiny fuchsia nails. "Something always seems to befall us."

"Makes it rather interesting, though." I replied. "It may not have been the carjacking Emmett was after, but it's a story nonetheless."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I can't believe he still drives around with you and Edward, in the hopes of that happening again. He's got more chance of it happening while he's alone."

"I don't mind having him with us." I responded genuinely. "He makes for entertaining conversation, and I don't suppose anyone would carjack us with someone of Emmett's build in the back seat."

"That is the _unfortunate _downside to his great plans." Rosalie smirked. "No one sensible would even attempt to steal a car from Emmett."

We quietened down as the distant rumble of a car engine grew ever closer. Considering the appearance of the motor car with quite a bit of interest, for it was extremely odd to hear such a purr coming from a car. It appeared on the road with all the finesse of something lavish, excessive speed and shining in such a particular colour. Swerving dramatically around our Buick, and off into the distance, leaving behind nothing but a cloud of dust. While I could not help but cough in disdain, Rosalie was out of the car the very same second. Slightly wide eyed, and mouth ajar. "Was that an Aston Martin?" She questioned excitedly.

"I don't know, couldn't see for all the dust." I responded.

"It was." She confirmed to those ignorant. "A DB2. Closed coupé, sports saloon. With a limited production number."

"And?" I prompted.

"I want one." She replied decisively.

"Then…get one."

She looked at me with a face that spoke volumes, mocking my stupidity in a way only Rosalie could. "Limited production." Came the pointed reply. "You can't just…_get one_. You have to get your name placed on their list, even then it isn't guaranteed."

"That's because large organisations usually place their investors top of those kinds of lists. Customers come second." I told her plainly. "If you invest a decent proportion, I'm sure you can get fast tracked."

"You're not top of any worthwhile lists, are you?" She questioned critically.

"Well, if you're after any aeronautical parts, or getting fascinating papers from the British Science Association, then I can help you." I tried, almost predicting the type of response I would get.

She clicked her tongue to signal her displeasure. "You and I have very different ideas when it comes to what we consider _fascinating_."

I would have vehemently agreed, but once again we paused as another motorcar came into range.

Its chugging turnover and rumbling engine, was enough of an indication that this car did not possess even a fraction of the finesse of the previous. And as it turned the corner, the old Chevy seemed to bumble along the road at an almost painful speed. Ancient suspension springs meant the whole chassis and body work jumped violently as it passed over the uneven road.

I could hear Rosalie's short of disparage.

But unfortunately for her, there was further insult to her good taste, for the automobile slowed and came to a perfect stop next to us.

While Rosalie made no motion to move from her spot, I was forced to play mediator. Crossing from my verge hideaway to meet those who had dared to stop; hoping most earnestly it was not kidnappers or vagabonds.

Luckily no such troubles befell us. For the vehicle held no threat, a middle aged couple and their numerous offspring, who were unceremoniously crammed into the backseat. The woman could be heard hastily whispering to her husband, telling him to keep driving, not to talk to such strange persons on the road side.

"They could be criminals, for all we know." She hissed under her breath, keeping her eyes trained on the road in front.

The gentleman driver took no notice, and wound down his squeaky window regardless to her worries. "Are you alright, Miss?" He began, doing an excellent job of keeping his surprise at bay. "Car troubles."

Rosalie scoffed.

"Thank you for your concern." I began, ever so slightly proud of my intact manners. "But it's nothing major, two flat tires."

"Did you need a hand?" He replied helpfully, ignoring the unsubtle jab he received from his wife.

"No, don't worry. The other half of our group has walked to the nearest town, they shouldn't be long now." I placated, trying to ignore the looks of utter enthrallment from the children in the back seat. As they squashed their faces against the window and watched me with unblinking eyes. "I'd be mindful of the road up ahead, with two flat tires; one cannot help but suspect bad road as the cause."

He nodded thoughtfully, looking directly ahead as if by some mere magic he would see the bad road. "Thanks for the notice." Came the eventual reply. "I can't help notice your cases...which direction you heading?"

"North." I confirmed vaguely.

"I'd give you a little warning, bad storms into Washington. Lots of rain." The man said with a foreboding tone. "Lots of rain. Quite a few of the roads up towards Olympia are washed out, I'd give them a wide birth."

"Thank you, we will take that into consideration." I responded, wondering if those children possessed the ability to blink.

Thankfully, the conversation did not blunder onwards into the realm of awkwardness, and soon nothing but their struggling engine could be heard as they drove off down the bad road.

"Of all the weekends to travel." Rosalie huffed. "Didn't I tell you we were a martyr for bad luck." She rather gracelessly leaned over the front seat, hand grappling for the map in the glove box. "A whole new route." Came her incessant mutterings.

She eventually removed herself from the car, map in hand and brandishing it like a weapon. With a thud she smacked it down on the hood, violently smoothing out the crinkles and tracing our current route with her pink nails.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the road towards Olympia is the main in the region. We're most probably going to have to take the road across Mount Rainier Park." I retorted, moving to view the map. "It will add a couple of hours on, but there is a straight road to Tacoma about half way along."

"I guess that means we don't have to actually pass through Olympia, and at this rate, we would have most probably hit rush hour." She summed, looking a little more pleased with this prospect.

"See." I interjected. "When something spectacularly fucks up, fate sends us a helpful human to guide us in the right direction."

"A helpful human, and a woman who looked about ready to scratch your eyes out." She smirked, tossing the map haphazardly back into the car.

"What can I say, I tend to bring out the best in people." I answered. "Or she was certainly well aware of her instincts."

"Some people seem to be far better at understanding their instincts." Rosalie replied quite receptively. "While others fight against it... don't you think it strange, how even after existing as human for a prolonged amount of time, most of us have very little understanding of their ways."

"I suppose we all have an outsider's perspective on them. The time in which you were human is now almost equal to this life; you can either become more and more removed from the mortals, ending up like Aro. Or try to integrate, much like Carlisle has done."

"Integrate… so do you think it's possible to attempt school with them?" She questioned. "Can something like that honestly work?"

I shrugged. "No idea. But Alice saw us-"

"I've yet to have any faith in what Alice sees." She interjected sharply.

"Very well, seeing as you have obviously thought this over. Do you want to go to school?" I questioned. The two of us returning to our back bench seats, as the first appearance of rain began to spit down upon us.

"It's a foolish idea." Rosalie declared promptly. "There are far too many risks that go against us. That many humans, being forced to remain in a confined space with them, not to mention the unforeseen happenings. None of us have any experience when it comes to modern schooling." She fingered the hem of her tailored jacket.

"Tell me if I'm wrong, somehow I'm sensing a _but_?"

She twitched her lips, deliberating over how to phrase the next portion of her dialogue. "But." Came the deductive word. "Emmett is so keen."

"I was under the impression you and Emmett were separate beings, or have you successfully attached your hips together?" I wondered, testing this moment with a jibe that would give me the firm footing as to where this conversation was heading. When it came to Rosalie, her soft and honest opinions were only ever bestowed with an intimate audience. Therefore, when she wished to talk so frankly, she deserved to have the recipients undivided attentions. Else, her honest opinions seemed to get lost behind her usually brass front.

"He says he doesn't want to go if I don't." Regardless to her huff, it was clear she found his declaration quite charming. "Says it won't be as much fun. Which is completely ridiculous, he's completely capable of making his own fun. He usually does."

"Well, Edward and Alice seemed keen to go. So he's not going to be completely alone, if the decision is made." I said, slightly distracted by the steadily growing raindrops on the windscreen.

She scoffed. "You honestly think Edward's going?" Her look of blatant disbelief was enough for me to second guess my own affirmation.

"I was under the impression he wanted to go." I replied rather weakly.

"Don't be silly, if you're not going there is no way he will." She responded stoutly, leaving little room for me to even second guess her knowledge. "Ever since that… _incident_, he scarcely leaves your side. There is no way he would do it willingly, five days a week."

"Alright." I remarked, a little put out. "I'll admit we have been spending a lot of time together, but there is no harm in that. And if Edward wants to go to school, I will whole heartedly support and encourage him to do so."

"Unless you go, he won't." She supplied with an air of superior knowledge.

"And unless you go, Emmett won't." I protested. "So in the end only Alice will go."

"I doubt Jasper would let her go alone." Rosalie interjected. "So in the end, no one will go. Brilliant. End of the whole foolish topic." She sat back, clearly attempting to look pleased with herself, but only succeeded in appearing unresolved.

"Are you… considering it?" I questioned with my own smirk of superiority.

"He really wants to go." She sighed, rubbing her temple with her forefinger. "Even when he says he's not bothered, I know he is. You saw how excited he was when we first discussed it."

"Exceedingly."

"Exactly." She groaned, pulling lightly on her coiffured curls. "I'm trying to convince myself, it could work… that I could go to school."

"I'm sure we can make it work." I attempted to placate. "I know your faith doesn't extend to Alice's visions, but she did see us making an attempt… that has to account for something. And if Carlisle can work so closely with humans, why can't we go to school?"

She considered me for a moment, before her brow turned upwards. "Does this mean… you're considering it?"

"Good grief, no." I replied quickly, rejecting the notion with a wave of my hand. "School is not for me."

"Why not?" She declared sharply. "You said yourself, we could make it work. Don't be hypocritical."

"Look, school is just not for me. I neither have the patience or the dexterity to survive in _that_ kind of environment."

"How do you know?" She questioned persistently, seemingly quite determined that I should change my mind. "It could be… amusing. And I suppose, there is nothing that states we have to do all the years, we could just skip straight to the last. Graduate with as little fuss as possible."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm a lot older than the average high school student." I began. "I would fail spectacularly at trying to communicate or find anything in common with these _teen-agers._"

"Who says we have to speak to them?" She replied, looking quite scandalised by the very idea.

"They're bound to try." I exclaimed. "Not to be arrogant, but we rather stand out from the crowd."

She shrugged arrogantly. "We'll do what we always do. Shoo them away."

I could form no response, because her answer seemed far too easy, and I did not wish to give her the gratification of knowing there was a small part – insignificantly tiny – that maybe would think it over. She did not need to know this.

Luck - or what I perceived to be luck - came as we noted Emmett jogging down the road, the new tire rolling along at his side as he gave it the occasional tap of encouragement. Edward not far behind, sensibly using the umbrella I had lent him, and allowing a safe distance of disassociation between himself and Emmett.

"This conversation is not over." She declared, pointing a perfectly painted nail in my direction. "Just on hold for the moment."

"You will receive the same answer each time." I retorted defiantly.

Her undoubtedly sarcastic remark was rendered inaudible, as Emmett nearly wrenched open my passenger side door. "We managed to get one." He announced happily, the rain water dripping down his face.

"Congratulations." I supplied, pulling the edge of my coat away from the water he was inadvertently letting in. "Now close the door."

With sufficiency that could only be rivalled by Rosalie's skill, Emmett changed both the flat tires in quick succession; both of which we disposed of upon passing a tire yard some miles up the road.

With a slight deviation to the journey, I volunteered to drive the diversion and swap once we reach Seattle. But as predicted by the helpful human, once we passed over the Washington border the skies progressively got darker. Hanging so low with their heavy burden that a strange mist settled in the road dips and hill valleys. Until the visibility grew so poor, I could hardly see the road ahead.

"Never mind Vancouver, we'll be lucky to make Seattle." Emmett declared, leaning forward to place his chin on the front bench.

"We certainly picked a bad day to travel." Edward replied, looking rather unimpressed with the rainy haze that now surrounded the car. "I doubt we'll make it to Vancouver before nightfall."

"That's if we make it." Emmett responded from between us. His attempts to play a rather one sided game of 'I spy', was further rendered pointless with the lack of outside references. "Something beginning with M." He began lustreless, when no one answered his first couple of declarations.

"Mist." I responded automatically. "Lots and lots of mist."

Not only did I have to drive with extreme caution due to the pretty abysmal conditions, but compensate each time another car passed us by. Humans were hardly the most skilful when it came to driving, alongside this weather and their poor senses, it was a sheer miracle most stayed on the road.

"Which way are you attempting to drive?" Edward questioned, studying the map in his hands.

"I was hoping the road north at Morton would be open." I replied, pointing to the exact destination on the map. "If not, the next road would be the Washington 123."

"And if that fails." Rosalie interjected; her look of indignation was clear in my rear view mirror.

"Then it's another hundred miles to reach the highway between Yakima and Tacoma." I supplied.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that, or there are at least stops along the way." Edward added. "Because I don't think we have enough gas to reach the highway."

"Fucks sake." Rosalie muttered, slapping her hands against the back of my seat.

"Well, at least you don't have another twelve hour drive after this one." I reminded her, hissing out a sound of aggravation, as a passing car came very close to the centre of the road. The conversation was quickly cut short by my colourful language, and calls for that particular fool to use his fog lamps.

We continued onwards for more than an hour, only to find that our initial elation at finding the road would become violent disappointment. The first road north was closed.

"It's fine." Edward attempted to placate. "According to the map, there are two more towns before we reach the 123. I'm sure one of them will have a gas station."

"One can but hope." Emmett supplied, re-balancing his hat over his face, in a strangely convincing attempt to appear sleeping. "Will the 123 take us past Rainier?"

"Into the national park, then we meet the highway and that will take us past it." Edward answered.

"Capital." Came the response. "Tahoma Peak, round that area. Do you remember, Bella?"

"Remember what, Em?" I pretended to be ignorant.

"Course you do." He waved his hand in my general direction, seeing as the hat still presided over his face. "No one could forget the beast I took down."

"Here we go." Edward sighed.

"Must have been nearly two thousand pounds." He claimed as usual.

"It wasn't _that_ big." Came Rosalie's predictable reply. "Fifteen hundred at most."

"And the rest." He muttered.

"Are we honestly still having this conversation?" I wondered aloud. "Five years have passed."

"The sheer superiority of my hunt is timeless." Emmett exclaimed quite eloquently.

"Yes, until someone else comes along and hunts something larger." Edward said, leaning over his seat to steal Emmett's hat.

"And I thusly declare it shall be I who bags the largest." I stated, ignoring the calls of indignation and stealing the fedora for my own use. "See how easily I can acquire your things? I'm sure hunting something larger will be a piece of cake."

"You wish." Emmett muttered, making a failed attempt to taking his hat back.

"I hear the Canadian Rockies are prime for hunting." Edward replayed to him. "Even your hunting magazine put them in the top five."

"Yeah, but Pacific Ranges were top." He responded smartly, crossing his arms across his chest.

"We are going to Vancouver to see the sights." Rosalie rapidly interjected, fixing him with a pointed no nonsense stare. "This is not a hunting vacation. And when we do hunt, it will be nowhere near as far out as Whistler."

"But, Rosie." He whined. "Bears."

"I guess the title is ours for the win." Edward smirked, looking ridiculously pleased at Emmett's chiding.

"I don't mean to rain on your parade." I began, trying my hardest to read the barely visible road signs. "But I will fight even _you_ for that title."

"You would fight _your own_ husband?" He asked in mock disbelief. "I thought we were a team?"

"We are." I replied, patting his hand. "But only one of us can eat the bear, and unfortunately that's going to be me."

He chuckled rather sardonically in reply. "And unfortunately, I have no intentions of letting you win."

"Letting me win?" I mirrored, trying to pull my hand back from his competitive hold. "Is that what you tell yourself? What about when my Yankee's obliterate your feeble Soxs? Are they just _letting_ us win?"

"Ohh." Emmett supplied helpfully from the back seat.

"Alright." Edward replied to my blatant bad mouthing of his beloved team. "Let's make this a little more interesting…how about a wager?"

"Five hundred dollars." Rosalie suddenly interjected. "Five hundred dollars to whoever hunts the largest game; money supplied by the loser. Obviously."

"Largest?" I questioned.

"Weight. Before blood loss." Rosalie proposed.

"Excellent. I could use five hundred bucks." I replied.

Edward merely shook his head, not rising to my second bout of teasing, which immediately meant he was planning something. I would have to watch myself.

Instead, he cordially pointed out we would soon be passing through a small town, to which everyone dutifully began to look out for any sign of a gas station.

And just before passing the town boundary, we came across a small but perfectly functioning station. Gas was thusly purchased, and for the first time that day, no misfortune befell us. The gentleman who kindly pumped our gas, informed us the Washington 123 was indeed open, and as far as he knew there were no issues along the way.

Things improved further upon joining the highway, when the car radio suddenly blared to life. While there was initial bickering as to what to listen to, eventually we agreed on finding a weather report. It may have not been the most spectacular of reports, but - if true- would significantly improve driving conditions.

It was some four hours later, just as the sun was going down, that we finally arrived in Anmore. Depositing Rosalie and Emmett at their remote suburban location, agreeing to pick them up from the same spot in a week's time, and issuing a promise to try and avoid being carjacked.

Before we began the arduous twelve hour drive to Calgary. To _finally_ begin the trip we had been planning for so many weeks; now minus the carjackers who had forced us to drive them to Vancouver.

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><p><em>AN: I'm really looking forward to writing chapters with just Bella and Edward, it seemed like a while since they have properly been alone. And I think it will do well in rounding up this section of the sub-plot…although sometimes things do tend to write themselves. So we shall see what happens. _

_Thanks once again for all the feedback. Please do review. _


	95. Chapter Ninety Four: Schooling

_A/N: Hello, all. While I would have liked to have this out a little earlier (and boy, did I try) the great technology gods said no. There was a reoccurring error whenever I attempted to publish my chapter, which is why it most probably came up with an 'unavailable error.' But it's all sorted now, and I've upgraded my browser which should help (I hope.) You may, or may not have noticed, but I have started to do away with my Latin titles. As much as I have grown fond of them, trying to find certain story lines is nigh on impossible. So far I've only done the first ten… which has taken much longer than I expected. So that will be a slow progression. _

_Thanks to all those who reviewed the last chapter, put me on alerts or favours. Six hundred reviews! You guys are absolutely brilliant. _

_Holidai: Rosalie and Bella have such a strange relationship, they have the potential to be each other's worst enemy, but when they get on, it's nice to write. No wolves I'm afraid (although they have already appeared in a recollection: Chapter Seventy Two,) but I have no doubts the wolves will be making a reappearance later on. Thank you so much for reviewing. _

_silverhawk88: They have actually already met the wolves; before moving to their current location (Seaside city) they lived in Hoquaim, Washington. Bella mentions this meeting in Chapter Seventy Two. But they will be making a reappearance later on. Thanks for reviewing. _

_vxgt: Thank you for reviewing. I think it's funny that they all attend school, and apparently so willingly. They are technically middle aged (in human years,) therefore understandable that Bella and Rosalie have no real desire to go. I wouldn't. It was very tempting to put another carjacking in; writing Emmett's reaction would have been fantastic. _

_viola1701e: It is hard to understand why the Cullen's would openly attend a school, they are already middle aged, incredibly intelligent, and therefore well above high school education levels. So I guess, keeping up-to-date with others of the same physical age, is probably important when attempting to maintain a human image. Thanks for reviewing. _

_raven leveau: I'm afraid the wolves are absent for the time being; the route they take through Washington is about three hundred miles from the Quileute reservation. But they will be making a reappearance some time later on. Thanks for reviewing. _

_Awkward Banana Tacos: Thank you for another brilliant review! And yes, perhaps there is a little foreshadowing between Rosalie and Bella, regarding school. I'm glad you like all the random things that somehow manage to find their way into the story. Not to worry about George, if you scroll to the bottom of this chapter I have done a list of character bios. I hope that should explain who he is. But you are certainly correct in guessing he is Bella's former fiancé. I have also listed the chapter's he appears in, if you wanted to take a look. Hope this helps, and thanks for the unwavering support. _

_Guest: Congratulations anon, you have become my six hundredth reviewer. Thank you very much!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Ninety Four<span>

14th September, 1950

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...

..

.

I could honestly state, without a shadow of a doubt, that I had no idea where we currently were. Surrounding us, in every possible direction seemed to be a never ending, all-encompassing, range of white capped mountains. Regardless of where one attempted to find a high point of reference, nothing could outstrip the sheer might of the crags. It appeared to be endless.

But for all its never ending might, the scenery was completely astounding. Between the unfathomable heights of the mountains, lay carpets of pine forests, completely covering the lowlands. On the odd occasion they would stop suddenly at the shore of a well hidden, glassy lake. Leaving only a small strip of rocky beach between the forest edge and the beginning of the watery expanse.

Each time we came across these perfectly hidden lochs, I could scarce believe the sight was real. The water was blue. Not the green tint, or grey tinge, that one usually used to describe great stretches of water. But actual aqua blue. So much so, it almost looked false.

The scenery was something so unfathomable, that we had gotten quite distracted and wandered far from the original path. Now it was anyone's guess as to our location.

"You know, it's almost a pity Emmett and Rosalie chose to go to Vancouver." I mused aloud; taking Edward's offered hand as he aided me up a rather steep path. "I think they would have liked this very much."

"I'm sure they would have." Edward responded in agreement. "I have no qualms about us giving them a lift, but sharing a holiday with them is another matter entirely."

"That's why it's _almost_ a pity." I reassured. "But we can always give a favourable recommendation, maybe even favourable enough to have it as a possible home, once relocating returns to the discussion table."

"Three days and it's already so high in your appraisal." He remarked.

"I don't know why you act so surprised." I commented. "Who wouldn't want to live here? It's glorious. You can actually get lost, properly lost. I don't think that's ever happened before."

"That's a good thing…because-"

"Because then it's like going on an adventure." I supplemented, lagging behind just a little to admire the sheer drop to our left. "You're bound to find something new every time you come out."

"Don't fall." He warned, stopping to make sure I stayed upright and on the ledge.

"Have you ever known me to fall off a cliff?" I implored.

"No, but I did recently watch you cliff dive…same sort of thing. Gravity, falling." He concurred, catching my hand and moving us onwards from the drop.

"We should go cliff diving." I voiced, adding to a long list of other things I had implored we must do.

"Can I insist there be water beneath?" He jibed.

"I suppose so." I proclaimed with a haughty jest. "Watching you plummet to the bedrock will have to wait until another time."

"Oh, how kind you are." He mocked. "I thought you wanted to go climb a mountain, and ride bikes along woodland trails, and go boating, and do all the many things recommended in the travel guide?"

"I do." I exclaimed, taking the map from his back pocket and attempting to once again source our current position. "Well, the boating depends on the size of the boats. But…in sight of everything that has happened lately-" He held onto my hand just that little bit tighter. "I think it's about time one attempted to broaden their horizons."

"Is this why you vetoed the trip to Maine?" He questioned.

"Partly. I do like Maine, very much so. But we have been there so many times." I concurred. "Don't you think this is far better?"

"So far – and it's only been three days- I'm in agreement. But I didn't think we were looking to move quite yet? It's only been a year." Came the extremely diplomatic reply.

"I don't mean we return home guns blazing, and recommendations spewing from our mouths." I informed. "But we can at least drop a hint." Having learnt nothing new from the map, or deciphering our current location, I managed to rather skilfully place it back into his pocket.

"Guns blazing." He repeated with a chuckle, shaking his head. "Could you imagine."

Sometimes I wondered if Emmett's ease of amusement had rubbed off on Edward.

"Hilarious." I replied dryly. "Are we just going to keep walking along these straights?" I wondered aloud. "We just seem to be getting deeper into the forest. Do you think we should climb higher?"

"I thought you were all for getting lost?" He replied smartly.

"I-I am." I replied, trying my hand in sounding defiant. "But what if we're missing all the good sights? We could be passing them by."

He considered the steep incline to our right, studying the great crags of rocks, the loose covering of top soil, and gnarls of exposed tree roots. "You want to go up there?" He questioned.

"Well, I was hoping to find something a little less steep, but you get what you're given. And I am wearing trousers… so I'm game for anything." I shrugged, placing my foot upon the beginning of the incline to signal my readiness for this extreme clamber. "Plus, humans do this kind of thing all the time. There must be some enjoyment in climbing."

"I think humans do it for the excitement of the climb; the fact if they fall down a mountain…they're most probably going to die. Humans like the thrill of it." Edward confirmed.

"It would be… inconvenient if I fell." I tried. "And I would most probably break something, just not my own bones. Humans must also wish to climb for the view, I mean, there must be some other gratification. Do you think Everest would be as popular if the view was disappointing?"

"What happens if we get to the top, and there is nothing to see? Just more trees." He theorised.

"Lord, I don't know." I exclaimed, growing tired of the questions. "Run as fast as possible until we find something? That usually works."

"Well then, after you, love." He gestured up the incline.

"No way. If I fall down you will laugh at me." I declared. "You go first."

"I would not laugh." Edward insisted. "I would catch you, if you fell… Then I may laugh."

I punched his arm, and dealt out a scowl. "Not funny."

"Alright, alright." He concluded, but with a sly smirk that looked anything but trustworthy. "How about we climb together?"

"Sounds like you are goading me into something with a competitive edge?" I accused, narrowing my eyes in comic indignation.

"Double or nothing." He said. "Fourteen hundred dollars, says you can't make it to the top before me."

"Wait." I implored loudly. "Wait a moment. Firstly, fourteen hundred? Double five hundred is one thousand."

"You owe me five hundred dollars for catching the largest prey, but for each day I don't get my money, that's a hundred in interest. Two days have passed… so I make that seven hundred." He summed brightly.

"You are a rotten bastard." I proclaimed. "We never said anything about interest. And I don't have that much money on me."

He shrugged, clearly having way too much fun with my plight. "So… first one to the top?"

"Heck no." I blurted. "You have ridiculously long legs, and your arms about as long as my legs. There is no way I'm going to race you up there. I will cut my losses… but just you wait until we next go hunting. I will beat you."

Edward merely laughed in response. And with the power and skill I had come to expect from him, began scaling the steep incline with adept swiftness. I quickly followed his figure, albeit a little slower, but channelled some inner beastly instinct, to leap the distance my smaller legs could not reach across.

Eventually, only half a minute or so behind Edward, I managed to pull myself onto the summit ledge. It turned out we were not at the very top of the mountain, but instead upon a high shelf overlooking the lands below. The exposure to the wind, meant the shelf lacked any soil and thusly no trees. Giving us, a rather splendid view below.

Running almost parallel to where we had been walking, just over the other side of the mountain was the unmistakably large lake we have been searching for. Complete with a mirage of little boats, rowing across the water. Some looked like mere pleasure cruises; others contained humans attempting to fish the lake.

"Let's go boating." I declared quickly, very much charmed by the little wooden boats.

"How did I know you were going to say that?" He questioned rhetorically. "But I was under the impression boats were not your _thing_?"

"I'm not overly keen on ships." I declared, recalling the natural unease that came with such weighty vessels floating on water. "But there is no harm with rowing boats. As long as you don't rock it."

"I promise not to capsize our boat."

"Excellent." I prevailed, gripping onto his arm and dragging him down towards the shore.

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><p>"Do you think there are any giant fish in this lake?" I wondered, looking over the side of the extremely tiny rowing boat, as it ever so slightly rolled back and forth with every great stroke of the oars.<p>

"Probably." Edward supplied, pulling his oar against the water, while I let mine skim laxly on the surface. "If you don't row we'll be going round in circles." Came expected the response.

"Stop rowing then." I replied, placing my palm flat against the water and revelling in the feeling of the cold liquid between my fingers. "We don't have a destination, and I don't think we're racing anyone. Unless I've missed something."

"You have completely missed the competitive look we got from that boat…" He tipped his head over to the right, towards a small rowing boat and an elderly gentleman, half asleep with a fishing rod in his hands.

"Real competitive." I snorted. "Let's just hope he doesn't catch anything big, or we may have to stage a rescue."

We both watched him for a lingering moment, almost to make sure no giant fish pulled him. Luckily, no such misfortune befell the man, and alongside the direction of the breeze, he drifted off towards one side of the lake. Still napping, and void of any pulls on his fishing line. Humans still remained to be, the strangest of creatures, but ultimately the most fascinating.

Inadvertently, my mind wandered from fascination, to a lack of understanding, and then reached a very undesirable subject, that I had attempted to erase from thought. Placed far to the back, only to be considered when I had no other choice.

I cursed Rosalie for bringing up the subject. Making me suddenly consider school, when I was on my holiday. The two should never cross one another.

But here I was, thinking it over. "Are you going to school?" I questioned, void of any consideration to gently ease it into conversation.

He stopped rowing, bringing both oars inwards so they balanced within their rowlocks, considering the sudden change in subject with a quizzical brow. "I have… no idea." He eventually replied. "Why?"

"But you seemed really keen when Alice mentioned it?" I pressed, moving forward on my little wooden bench.

"I didn't know attending school was still being discussed." He responded. "And I'm neither here, nor there."

"But if it did come to the table… you would go if you wanted to. Right?" I urged, nodding my head in the hopes he would assure me that was indeed the case.

Edward unfortunately did not get this prompt, and continued to look at me with a completely blank face. "I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about." He said bluntly. "Has the clean mountain air gone to your head?"

"Answer the question." I forced again.

"What… what question?" He proclaimed.

"The question about school. If there was the chance to go to school, would you take it?"

He pursed his lips and shook his head; clearly the ease of this conversation was completely lost to him. "No idea." Came the bland reply. "Are you going to school?"

"No." I jumped in quickly, having to restrain myself from actually leaping upwards. "No. This isn't about me. I want to know if _you_ would go to school. It doesn't matter if I'm going or not."

"What?" He resigned. "Why am I not allowed to know if you're going?"

We were clearly, on two very different wavelengths at this current moment. "Fine." I said, admitting defeat and sitting backward on my bench. "Rosalie said, that if I didn't go to school, then you wouldn't either."

"Rosalie?" He questioned, before slight confusion turned into a smirk. "Did you questioned how she knew this?"

"Well… no. But she seemed quite assured it was true…"

"I think-" he smiled towards me, "you've had the wool pulled over your eyes, love. Rosalie doesn't want to go to school, she really, really doesn't. But Emmett won't go without her, so she feels obliged. The only thing that would make school tolerable, is having an ally. Someone who usually supports her views… especially when it comes to humans."

"And… that would be me." I summed, unable to hide my disgruntlement. "How crafty… For a moment there, I even began to consider it."

"So you've written it off completely?" He questioned, arms pushing and pulling in even strokes, as we crossing the water quite adeptly.

"It is just not the type of place I see myself." I responded, watching the water ripple outwards as the oars dripped repetitively into the water. Blurring the reflection of patchy sky, and the great summits that surrounded the lake. The ranges offering such a bounty of overhanging shade, that our hats were quite discarded at the bottom of the boat.

And it was quite easy to feel content, for the expanse of water, put such an amble and impassable distance between us and everyone else, that the whole notion felt intimate. No room for human interference.

"Not ever? Came the eventual remark from him.

"Well, not in the near future." I confirmed. "But I suppose I'm lax to say never. I'm sure when you all go; you can reiterate the experience for me. Then I can make a decision."

"That's all well and good, but I'm not going." Edward replied nonchalantly.

"But… but you said Rosalie was wrong?" I fretted, tapping the soles of my shoes against the curve of the boat planks.

"Actually, I said her reasoning was misleading." He implored. "You honestly expect me to go to school with Rosalie and Emmett? I'd like to retain my sanity."

The urge to shake him, quite violently was overwhelming.

As much as he professed his apparent disinterest, I knew him well enough to know it wasn't complete indifference to schooling. And I, therefore, came to a loathsome conclusion. I loved him, enough to apparently warrant enrolling as a student when the time came.

Indeed, it looked as if I was going to school.

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><p><em>AN: So, seeing as we are almost reaching three years of this story, and for those who have been following from earlier points (bless you). I thought I'd do a quick run down of the characters who have been introduced or mentioned but are not protagonists. I'm sure there are more, but these are the ones who might get mentioned in the future. I'll try to identify the chapter(s) in which they appear. _

_Charles Swan:__ Appears in Chapter One, and Twenty Four. Mentioned in Chapter Fifty and Seventy. _

_Born in Kent, 1859. Gentleman of rather eminent wealth and aristocratic roots, owner of a merchant shipping company. Father of Isabella. Died 15th April 1912 (aged 53) RMS Titanic. _

_Renee Swan:__ Appears in Chapter One, Twenty Four, Fifty, and Seventy. Mentioned in Chapter Sixty._

_Born in London, 1874. Daughter of physician, mother of Isabella. Self-described as a 'silly headed wife.' She survives the sinking of the Titanic, and goes on to file a lawsuit against White Star Line, for reparations of one million pounds._

_Margret Greave:__ Appears Chapter One and Twenty Four:_

_Former governess, turned companion of Isabella. She is a stout with a ruddy complexion, and not one to be meddled with. Survives the sinking of the Titanic. _

_Christopher Marvin:__ Appears in Chapter One and Twenty Four. _

_Maritime Lawyer, and consultant to Mr Swan's company. Father of George. Died 15th April 1912, RMS Titanic._

_Mary Marvin:__ Appears in Chapter One and Twenty Four. _

_A rather excitable woman who trills in gossiping. Wife of Christopher, and mother of George. Died 15th April 1912, RMS Titanic._

_George Marvin:__ Appears Chapter One, Twenty Four, Sixty, and Sixty One. _

_A young man of twenty two, described as being "extremely pleasing to the eyes, tall and slim with the most beautiful blue eyes." He finds himself engaged to Isabella through an initial parental agreement, but consents to the marriage. _

_While he is stated to have died 15th April 1912, RMS Titanic. George manages to survive the sinking, but masks his survival in fear of the slanderous consequences. He finds his way to New York, living under the guise of Matthew Smith, and working as a cobbler's apprentice. _

_After attempting to take his own life, he is accidentally changed into a vampire. After his sire is destroyed, he meets Elias. _

_Elias:__ Appears Chapter Sixty One._

_A vampire who has territorial claims over the north west of New York City. He attacks and destroys another vampire hunting within his lands, only to discover that they were in the middle of a hunt. He moves the changing human to Sterling Forest, to complete the rest of his transition. This human is George Marvin. After explaining the vampire laws, the two decide to travel together._

_Amos:__ Appears Chapters Sixty Seven, Eight, and Nine. _

_A nomadic vampire and old acquaintance of Carlisle. He is described as being lofty in height, with a lanky, slender constitution. With an estimated physical age of between thirty and forty. Born in Kherson, Ukraine, a victim of the Koliyivshchyna peasant rebellion. His actual name is Oleksandr Lytovchenko, but he chose the name Amos upon moving over to the America's. He is a St' Louis Browns Fan. _

_Wolves:__ Mentioned Chapter Seventy Two_

_Between the years of 1947 – 1949, the Cullen's take up residency in Hoquaim, Washington. They come across the Quillayute tribe, and the shape shifters within. The treaty is made. _

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><p><em>AN: Thanks very much for being patient, it's been a pretty hectic week, with mock exams, and my housemates and I scouting out a new house to live in next year._

_Please do review._


	96. Chapter Ninety Five: Coin Hoarder

_A/N: Hey all. Hope April is treating you well. Easter is finally upon us, which for many, means some time off from various studious occupations. Brilliant. My housemates and I have finally chosen our new house, and moving commences after the holiday. Which unfortunately means, packing up all my worldly possessions. I've planned out my writing time, so this shouldn't have an impact on my updates. (Fingers crossed) _

_Thank you to all my lovely reviewers, and those who have put me on alert and favourites. I hope the character guide was of some help, and pointed you in the right direction. _

_Holidai: Always great knowing you enjoyed the chapter. I'm in total agreement, while I love writing the Cullen's; writing just Bella and Edward is so much fun. Indeed, the next portion of the story will be following their attempts at going to school. And thank you so much for the lovely comment; it's such a nice feeling to have such compliments, especially on my writing style. Your reviews are greatly appreciated. _

_vgxt: Thank you for reviewing. I'm not entirely sure about the whole 'La tuna cantante,' I don't plan on introducing the concept at school. But it will be making an appearance at some point. _

_viola1701e: Indeed, Rosalie was correct, although rather inadvertently. It's like a chain reaction. While Alice is very much up for it, I don't think she would go without Jasper. Not until his control was more assured. So they may miss the first school trial. As for Esme, I think she is as ambitious as the rest of them, I have plans for her. Thanks for the review. _

_raven leveau: Poor Bella, she really doesn't like the idea of school. Too bad school is directly upon the horizon. Thanks for the review._

_CullenBoy123: Oh, you are far too kind. I just hope I can meet your expectations. But I'm looking forwards to writing high school, especially writing it in the fifties/sixties. Not only is this the Atomic Age, with the development of the hydrogen bomb. But 1954 saw the Brown v. Board of Education which declared it unconstitutional to have separate public schools for black and white students. As you can most probably tell… I'm a little pumped to be writing this next section. Thanks for the review. _

_InfiniteThought: Thanks for the review. While indeed the original (and very much correct form) is "for all intents and purposes," "intensive purposes" is quite a fairly common Eggcorn. Although, I admit rarely makes it through the editorial. But I'll make sure to take care in future use. _

_mwjen: Thanks for the review. _

_Discalimer: I do not own the right to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Ninety Five: A Coin Hoarder<span>

September 16th, 1950

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Patiently did I wait for the gentleman in the wooden booth to finish his telephone conversation, watching as he made flourishing notes on the low table and repeatedly crossed and uncrossed his legs. Arrogantly did he laugh, pretentious lip hair twitching with each sordid chuckle. That initial forgiveness was gone, and my patience began to unwind.

While I had been fishing for the correct coins in my purse, the man had cut in front of me to take _my _deserved turn. Initially, it had not been an issue; I presumed the mortal was in some kind of hurry, I could wait. But that had been ten or so minutes ago, and I was still waiting. Doing my best to remain as poised as possible in light of his ongoing tête-à-tête.

All around the station was busy with commuters, weaving and dodging each other as they attempted to reach the ticket office or platform. Voices chattering, shoes tapping against the polished floorboards, while the noise echoed loudly around the vaulted ceiling. The commotion was the perfect place to instigate a telephone call home; the closed mahogany booths offering just the right amount of privacy.

Or they would have done. If one wasn't out of order, and the other _still _currently occupied.

It would be far too easy to grab the man by his Newmarket style collar, throw him from the booth with enough flourish to slide the length of the room. But the police officer standing guard at the platform entrance would probably not take so kindly to it.

"How many quarters do you suppose he has?" Edward questioned, as another coin clinked through the mechanism.

"Looks like he's been hoarding them." I complained, turning in his arms to view the great glass windows and the state of the weather outside. Watching as people ran past the entrance way, some with newspapers and bags held above their heads, trying in vain to protect themselves from the lashings of rain. "Well, at least the sun hasn't come out yet."

"Can't we just use the other one?" He replied, refusing to be pushed to one side, as another fast paced human barrelled past.

"It's… out of order?" I half educated, half questioned. Gesturing to the neatly typed sign pinned to the booth glass.

"Good grief, is that what that signs says?" He mocked, pretending to squint his eyes. "Maybe I should visit the optician?"

"Hey, you're the one who made the statement. Don't mock me with your poorly constructed sentences." I responded indignantly.

He looked around us, surreptitiously glancing for anyone that might have been watching our way, before pulling me towards the second booth. Practically placing me inside, before he himself joined. The sliding glass door was shut, and the 'not in working order' sign was thusly removed.

"When I said spontaneous… this wasn't quite what I had in mind." I jibed, rather awkwardly shuffling into the one corner, my bag held tightly to my chest with such a limited space.

"Really?" He questioned. "In here?"

"No." I exasperated. "I was joking…Plus, there is barely enough room to swing a cat."

"That's never stopped us before." He muttered, turning his attention to the mounted rotary dial telephone. "Will you just stand in the way of the window… so no one can see in."

"Why?" I questioned, doing just as he asked anyhow. "Are you going to try and disconnect _Mr Coin Hoarder's_ line?"

"Well, I was going to try and fix this one." He said, gesturing to our telephone. "But I suppose that's a backup plan."

"I guess fixing would make more sense." I agreed tamely.

His fingers worked their way around the mounted box, ignoring the lock along the right hand side, instead seeking out the metal clips that held the front onto the back. Using a carefully deduced amount of force, he merely _peeled_ the clips back, foregoing the lock, and gaining access to the telephone components.

Looking ridiculously smug, he placed the front portion and receiver down on the convenient little seat, and resumed _fixing_. This did not take long, for even I could identify the probable issue, a single wire hanging limp from its connection. The exposed copper threads inside the plastic sheathing were frayed and split, having broken away from the corresponding screw where they made the necessary link.

"Now what?" I questioned. "I'm not Rosalie; I don't carry small screwdrivers in my purse."

"Can I borrow those tiny scissors you do carry?" He retaliated, holding his hand out expectantly.

"I'm sure it would be easier to just come back later, or trying again tomorrow." I said, rummaging around my bag to find the sewing kit. "There most probably won't be anyone at home anyway." Handing him the scissors from the pearl lacquer case.

"Well, consider this my good deed for the day."

"Just try not to start any electrical fires." I responded. "This whole station is nothing but wood, it would be raised to the ground. "

"What a productive holiday it will have been." He said, using my scissors to strip the wiring back. "Successfully managing to burn down this cities only public train station."

"Just another felony to add to our list." I joked; watching through the glass panels to check no one had noticed our rather suspicious activity. But the humans seemed quite content to amble towards the platform, with an auspicious four minutes until the timetabled arrival.

As the minutes ticked by, and the auspicious age trickled away, the graceful, lucid walks began to change. Quicker now, more pace and with such deliberation. People dodging and weaving across the room, attempting to reach the platform.

The train rumbled into the station two minutes past the allotted time. In response the wooden framed station seemed to shake and groan, the floorboards vibrating violently against the soles of our shoes. And as it came to a final stop, one could hear the great depression of steam, and the all encompassing smell of sooty smoke that flooded the ticket hall.

"Finished." Edward announced, returning the scissors to my keep, before placing the front of the box back onto its mooring.

"You're only finished if it works." I stipulated.

"Only one way to find out." He said, resting the receiver in the crook of his neck. "We have a dial tone." Came the jubilant response.

"I'll dial, you speak." I replied quickly.

Void of any confirmation, I all but threw in the first quarter, before placing my finger into the corresponding rotary holes. Twisting the dial to the home position and then allowing it to return to the rest. Making sure to dial the Portland exchange, before entering our own personal landline.

I hovered over his seated position, listening as the line made the initial connection, a resounding noise of small clicks. Then, with surprising luck, the connection established itself and we were making the call home.

"Pure skill." He mouthed at me, leaning back comfortably against the wall of the booth.

I shook my head in response. "Luck." I corrected.

There was no time to make another vexing reply, for there came a beep and a sudden voice on the other end. "Hello?" Came the bright answer.

"Hello, Alice." Edward responded, void of quite the peppiness she achieved.

"Hello, Edward." She almost sang. "How are you? How is Bella? How's Calgary?"

"We are very well, thank you. Calgary is nice. How is everyone at home?"

"We're all alive and well." She sounded a little put out. "But the house is really very quiet without you all, I'm even beginning to miss Emmett's shenanigans."

"Don't ever tell him that." Edward said. "He'd gloat about it until the end of time."

"Duly noted." She snorted. "You do, however, sound in far better spirits than he did."

"Should I dare ask why?" He questioned, allowing me to lean against him as I listened in on the conversation.

"Honestly, I could barely hear a word he said. The line was terrible, but I think the complaint was having to purchase new clothing." Alice responded, her voice ever so slightly muffled, as she undoubtedly coiled the telephone cord around her finger. "I've never come across another being with such an aversion to clothing."

"I think it comes down to whom it is he is shopping with." Edward chuckled. "Did you manage to get a message from him?"

"Yes." She affirmed. "Eventually, once he had stopped complaining."

"Let me guess… their plans have changed?" Edward began.

There was a crackle on the line, as she laughed into the receiver. "How did you know? Well, Emmett said, instead of meeting in… Chilliwack?"

"Yes. It was supposed to be Chilliwack." He confirmed. "That's what we had originally arranged."

"I'm not sure how much this is an inconvenience to you, I don't really know the Vancouver area. But Emmett said could you meet them at the ferry terminal? Tsawwassen?"

"Why?" I declared aloud. "Where are they planning on going?"

"Bella." She sang, upon hearing my voice.

I took the offered receiver, balancing the curved handle in the hollow of my neck, while I distributed my bag into Edward's care. "Good morning." I greeted. "What's all this I hear about Tsawwassen?"

"Mornin'." Alice chirped back. "From what I summed, they were going to take the ferry across to Vancouver Island. Emmett never said why, he didn't really get a chance. By the time we had begun to speak about the _new_ plan, he was on his last quarter. It was all rather jumbled. Is it far from the original destination?"

"Well, not a thousand miles away." I countered. "But it means driving through the middle of Vancouver… and I hate city driving." From next to me, Edward leant across the booth, pushing another battered coin into the slot, before the phone had a chance to reprimand me with a chorus of warning beeps. "Did Emmett say he was going to call again?"

"Yep." She affirmed. "They are going to call again tomorrow, to make sure you got the message."

"Good, you can tell them we won't be leaving Calgary any earlier." I stipulated. "We don't have to leave our lodgings till noon, and we are going to make the most of it."

Edward nodded feverishly in agreement.

"Even then." I continued. "I don't think we'll start the journey until sundown, so depending on traffic, we won't make it till Vancouver until the nineteenth. Around two o'clock in the afternoon."

"Two o'clock… on the nineteenth." Alice replied absent-mindedly. "Just noting it down, in case someone else takes the call." Feeling the need to explain her cause.

"If Rosalie takes issue with this, tell her she can bloody well purchase her own car, and drive herself home. I'm not her fucking lackey." I relayed.

"I shall make note." Alice giggled.

"You can censor the cursing." I added. "Although, hearing Carlisle relay that message would be brilliant."

"Then I will make sure to leave them in." She replied.

In front of my eyes came the sudden glint of silver, and the head of George Washington, as Edward waved the last coin at me. Holding up a digit to further validate the point.

"We'll call again on Monday. To make sure everything is fine before setting out. You don't have any plans, do you?"

"No." She confirmed. "Carlisle and Esme are out attending some kind of function for the hospital, but Jasper and I will be in all day."

"Excellent. I shall speak to you then." I concluded, doing my best to draw this conversation to a natural close.

"Alright. Hope you enjoy the rest of your holiday." She sang the final farewell, before the payphone let out its abrasive trio of warning beeps, and promptly cut the line.

With the obtrusive task of the day now accomplished, we finally left the cramped little phone booth for the freedom of the outside world. Almost wishing luck, to the moustache sporting gentleman, as he continued to use up another coin and avidly talk the morning away. And the 'no longer in service' sign was promptly disposed of.

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><p>The rain that had previously been lashing down had turned into a fine and bothersome mist. The type that attached itself to your clothing and hair, and drenched you without knowledge. But from the safety of our rented lodgings, the rain could do little to bother us. We had been gifted with mostly pleasant weather so far, so complaints were quite minimal.<p>

"If you're looking for something for us to do tomorrow, can I personally veto the pony trekking." Edward announced, gesturing to the forgotten travel guide on my lap. "And also the petting zoo."

"Aw, don't you want to see some wild goats." I replied, pointing to the informative photograph. "Fifty cents admission fee, it's a bargain. Much cheaper than Washington Park Zoo."

"It's only a bargain if you want what's on offer." He clarified. "And Washington Zoo has an elephant, there is no comparison."

"Fine." I responded. "Fresh water fishing?"

"You dislike fish, so no."

"Calgary Stampede Historical Museum tour?"

"I will bet you fifty dollars, you'll want to leave before the tour has finished." He replied cockily. "Can you really afford to lose any more money this holiday?"

"No." I admitted ruefully. "You are robbing me blind."

"You're the one who suggested double or nothing." He laughed, taking the opportunity to muss up my already shambolic hair. I uselessly batted away his hands, but with the skills of a proficient, he eluded my flailing limbs. Sitting back down on the edge of the bed, and taking the travel book from its perch upon my outstretched legs. "Does this have any recommendations on local bars?" He questioned slyly.

"Strangely not."

While Calgary had all the delights and beauty of a rural retreat, with the great mountains and lakes to boast of. But as for city charm… it had yet to reap the benefits of growing northern prosperity, or the full assets that came with the discovery of crude oil in Leduc. Calgary was still a small, anonymous city, with an aging infrastructure straight from the thirties depression.

But that's what made the city so strangely brilliant, like there was a time lag. Certain things had been preserved. I saw numerous Model A Fords, independent tailor shops, even horse drawn carts. Things that were seldom common now, things the new era had left long behind.

After the initial looks of suspicion had subsided, people were very friendly, hat tippingly so.

The only time in which hospitality had been lacking, was within the drinking lounge on the corner of the two intersecting main streets. But I could solely put that down to having a female within the establishment, something that was clearly out of the norm for this men's working saloon.

We decided against staying, there was too much notice upon us, and neither of us felt like consuming drinks to keep up that façade. Bringing about the end of Calgary night ventures. Not that it was particularly an issue; if I had desired night ventures and dancing I would have chosen to go to Portland or Seattle. Instead, it was nice to take advantage of the time together. Something that was very seldom with such a large family.

For one, having the option to amble around in undergarments - without having to gage the possibility of having someone else seeing - was utter brilliance.

"How about Edmonton?" Came Edward's eventual reply, as he tossed the guide across the room and proceeded to lounge across my legs.

"What's so great about Edmonton?" I responded, running my fingers through his hair.

He shrugged against the unmade chaos of bed sheets. "No idea. But isn't that where they discovered all that oil? I'm sure it's more advantageous than this cow town."

"Calgary is not a cow town." I argued.

"Did we, or did we not, see cows in the road?" Questioned Edward.

"We did. But Calgary is not… not a town." I mumbled in response.

He chuckled at this. "Cow city, then." I forewent playing with his hair, and instead made it more unruly, messing it into a terrible disarray. Until it stood on end in all directions. He protested, but made no move to stop me. Even when I attempted to braid part of his hair.

Such was the ease of the situation, and simplicity of conversation, that gave such merit to time away. A comfortable join solitude, away from the busy and social life of coven living. Tact was something still practiced, and careful consideration still required for our new members. While we had grown used to them, it was still not an effortless coexistence. There was still much work to be accomplished. But it was the type of work that came with time, familiarity and relationships were not quickly forged.

Time was something we had in abundance. Something that we had always considered a perk of being a vampire - others may have contested otherwise - but one always needed to look for the silver lining. The possibility of unlimited time came with a multitude of opportunities; like taking trips to different destinations, considering the possibility of attending a mortal high school, or even allowing you the space needed to repair your constitution after an unpleasant stint within the hands of your supposed _ally._

And then there came the great paradox, with such a limited life span, surely humans would wish to preserve their fragile lives. But instead they continued to wage wars, never learning from past atrocities. Humans were, and always would be, a creature that I failed to understand. Maybe understanding would come with time, with heightened exposure, or maybe their ways would continue to elude me for decades to come. But at least I had time upon my side.

"Let's go to Edmonton." I announced, leaning over my sprawled out husband.

"Oh, how very decisive. What's with this sudden change in attitude?" He responded, twisting my loose hair about his fingers.

"It's a new destination." I proposed. "I'm sure we can find something to occupy our time."

"Or…" He suggested. "We could just stay in here?"

"And… do what?" I feigned innocence.

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><p><em>AN: Thanks all for your patience; I've been battling a bout of tonsillitis… which is lovely. And seeing as it is recommended I stay away from public places, I've only just returned back home. _

_I can officially call this the end of this arc, I feel I have exhausted it, and am very much looking forward to the next part of the story. _

_Thank you for all the feedback from the last chapter, please do continue. _


	97. Chapter Ninety Six: Abscondence

_A/N: Hello all! And happy third birthday to this story. (Albeit a day late) I can't believe it has been so long, but thank you all for your ongoing support. Have a special little chapter to tide you over till the next._

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><p><span>Chapter Ninety Six: An Abscondence<span>

21st December 1938,

The Royal Sea Bathing Hospital, Westbrook, Kent

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Winter had struck with a vengeance, scrupulous, and indomitable in its approach. The ground had frozen with a heavy sheet of frost, a shimmering coat of certain burden for anyone who wished to travel across it. The ice clung to the skeletal trees, tinging them a hue of silvery white, which vehemently refused to be moved by the bitter wind.

Birds that had once been prolific during the summer, were now long gone, their songs mere memories from months gone by. But their noise was now replaced with the groaning of bare branches rubbing together.

But for all its bleak and desolate appearance, it was nothing more than a typical British winter. No different from any of the last. It did not hinder those with a job to do, they took no heed of the frost growing up the windows, or the light dusting of snow than had begun to fall. But, one by one, the ward matrons began to simultaneously open the line of large French doors.

The ward - spanning the length of the building – contained a multitude of white metal framed beds, pushed outwards towards the open veranda. In the hopes of allowing the fresh cold air to reach the lungs of the lithe and fragile. Bundled heavily in a multitude of blankets and fleece, as they sat and lay in their beds. Breathing in the healing qualities offered by the sea air, while watching the frigid grey wave's crash against the defences.

The wind howled along the terrace, whistling a violent pitch as it streamed around the masonry, only ever broken by the occasional cough, or squeak of the wrought iron bed frames.

While the ward tried its hardest to be sanguine, with delicate pictures of pretty landscapes, garlands of artificial flowers, and kind, encouraging smiles from the nurses, nothing could upset the overall notion of languish.

The patients were lacklustre and sickly.

Fighting a disease that was ravaging their bodies, taking hold of their lungs. Breathing was laboured, each intake and exhale permeated by a terrible crackling, a never ending wheezing that could not be cleared. There was no definitive cure, nothing that could spirit away the disease.

Just fresh air, isolation, rest. That's what the doctors said. Bed rest, plenty of bed rest. That's all they ever said, because that's all they knew. Almost every day the great glass doors were kept open, allowing the _fresh air_ to drift in, be it summer or winter, autumn or spring, they were hardly ever closed.

For a select few, this treatment had proven a success. Rest and fresh air had been the saving grace they had needed. But those who recovered made up a minority, and of that minority, the majority were young and supple. Easily able to fight off the disease.

Which left behind those who could not fight it, the infants, the old, and the infirm. In this particular ward lay the aged.

Those that had lived through many a decade, and bore the creases of time upon their skin. They had recollections of eras long since resigned to the history books, survived five monarchs, and a great war. But now, because of a ghastly disease, they struggled to fight, they had been reduced to being classed as _consumption victims_.

An ever growing statistic. Their individuality taken in favour of easy to manage data, suitable for government reports and public scaremongering.

But each one had lived.

At the bottom of the ward, furthest from the entrance, one of the rickety iron beds sat back from the others. Instead of being open to the elements, it had been pushed back to its place against the back wall, and those great French doors before it, those that were always open… had been closed.

"Chilblains." The patient had complained to the nurses. "Terrible, terrible chilblains." And subsequently her bed had been moved away from the open doors.

It was a shrewd lie. But the woman within the end bed had grown tired of the endless cold, staring at the same grey skies and endless grey ocean. Listening to her bed frame squeak as her body shivered in the open air. She knew fresh air could do no more against her ailment, the tuberculosis had taken its hold, infected her lungs enough to pass the threshold of possible recovery. She'd rather spend her final moments within the warmth, alongside the limited belongings she had brought with her.

On the side table next to her cot, sat within a rather ordinary vase, were a wonderful bounty of flowers. A bright bouquet of expensive flora, gifted to her by the gentlemen owners of a shipping company; the former business she had presided over for twenty five years. And had bad health not struck her down, it would have been another twenty five.

But the gentlemen were good boys, they came to see her each week, brought her flowers, played cards, and dictated current business. She looked forward to their visits.

Alongside the flowers, the case of playing cards, and her rouge powder, another inconspicuous item sat. An old and rather unfashionable hinged photo frame. The tortoise shell lacquer had chipped around the corners, the silver gilding a little tarnished, and when opened the hinges had a habit of letting out a small squeak. But the frame had remained a sturdy and solid companion for the priceless items within, and to part them from one another seemed like sacrilege.

Many of the nurses who came to tend her, asked about the photographs. Some asked out of sheer curiosity, others to merely make small talk. But regardless, all received the same answer.

"My husband." She would say, gesturing to the image of the tall, handsome man on the left of the frame. "My daughter." Pointing to the right, and the pretty young girl made up in lace and ribbons.

The only time she would elaborate would be upon one of them receiving a compliment, even then it would be a fully endorsed agreement, or an additional comment upon their fine looks or good countenances. Those who were curious, picked up on the past tense of her phrasing when she spoke of them, but never sort to pry anymore.

The young nurses prattled together, speculating what sort of woman she was. Wealthy, they had decided early on, the clothing items she bought along with her were decidedly fine. She forwent the starchy hospital blankets, instead wrapping herself in the ostentatious fur coat she had arrived in. And the men who came to see her. Each one dressed up to the nines, smartly pressed suits, stiff collars, expensive taste.

But the idle chatter never bothered the lady within the end bed, being the object of such speculation and mystery was rather fun. There wasn't much else to do; none of the other patients seemed to desire engagement of any sort. But resembled sallow and sickly corpses.

Then again, she supposed she too looked the same. Her plump figure had diminished into something terribly fragile; she could see the bones within her hands, sticking out at horrid angles. Even her expensive face powders could not cover the gaunt, translucent look of her skin. Never mind the atrocious noise her lungs made, popping and wheezing something terrible. The hot and cold fevers, coughing and gasping like a fish out of water.

She just hoped it wouldn't be too much longer. It had already been such a long time she had been forced to suffer. More than happily would she have succumbed to death twenty five years prior, but it had not been so willing to take her. She was more than ready, her business had been settled. Final testament written and signed.

There was no fear towards death, how could there possibly be, when one was so ready.

The world around her was moving so fast and the more and more it advanced, the more and more she felt left behind. Those rigid class boundaries were quickly disappearing, the age of large houses and high society balls were gone. Everything she had once stood for, her values were now considered ancient practices, outdated, behind the times.

This wasn't her era anymore.

Sometimes when she closed her heavy eyes, she could see the memories of those days, the elegance, the wealth, the prosperity. Feel the silk and velvet against her skin, smell the scent of roses and lavender. Hear the rousing music, a chorus of stringed talent. Everything she had come to associate with her former life.

And then all at once, she was a young woman once more, enthralled within a period like no other. The music became the laugher of her family, all the congratulations and well-wishing for a happy marriage. She could smile now at her childish naivety, marrying for all the wrong reasons, yet ending up with the most wonderful husband. How fortunate she had been, to have found someone like him. So caring, so understanding. There could never be another person to replace him. Never would she ever have considered another marriage.

Things were not easy at the beginning, she could see that now, looking back. They had been two very different people, but then along came something incredible. Something profound, that stirred up feelings she did not think possible in herself. Their daughter.

The most perfect creature, tiny features, and curls of the darkest brown. The house became a mirage of ribbons and bows, girlish giggles, and the tapping of running feet throughout.

Eighteen years they had been together as a family. She could look back upon them with only the fondest and pleasing of memories, for they had been the best of her life. It was with the sincerest of hope and unwavering belief, that they would be reunited. Her entire demeanour and sound of mind for the past quarter of a century, had depended upon this belief, she would not be swayed.

She could feel it in her lungs, the tight grip of cessation. Heavy eyes, weak limbs. It wouldn't be long now. They would all be together soon.

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><p><em>AN: If it wasn't obvious, this is Bella's mother, I know some people were wondering what exactly became of her. I live quite close to an old TB sanatorium, and on a couple of occasions have visited. It's an extremely strange place to go see, lots of old rusted cots, and graffiti on the walls. But great for inspiration. _

_Thanks once again for everyone's unwavering support, it really does mean so much._


	98. Chapter Ninety Seven: Impending

_A/N: Hey all. Hope everyone is well, and has enjoyed their Easter breaks (if you were fortunate to get one.) I'm really pumped to get started on a new sub-plot; I'm ready to begin something new. Thanks for the feedback from the previous chapters. And hello to the sudden influx of people who have joined._

_mwjen: Thank you for reading. Hope you continue to enjoy._

_viola1701e: Just another one of Edward's very handy skills, fixing broken telephones. I like to think he has a multitude of strange and sometimes quite useless skills. Between himself and Bella they are more than capable of getting out of interesting situations. As for Bella's mother, I like to imagine her reuniting with her husband, but I think she would be happy to know her daughter is alive (in some aspect at least.)_

_vgxt: Thank you so much for the continuing support. I like to think – in whatever capacity – they were reunited. But I think Reneé would be content to know her daughter is alive, happily married and living quite the lavish life._

_Holidai: Thank you, I am feeling much better now. There is nothing like a couple of days rest. And thanks for the feedback; I kind of miss writing about humans. And I have such a soft spot for Bella's mum. Hope you continue to enjoy._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Ninety Seven: An Impending Experience<br>

August 10th 1959, Schuyler Falls, New York State

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"Just out of sheer curiosity, and there is slight confusion mixed in. Why are there clams in a tin?" Stated Jasper, uncomfortably gazing at a display of canned molluscs, while pushing our shopping cart down the aisle. "Surely, you could just purchase fresh clams… we aren't that far from the coast?"

"Jasper, we just passed a jar of pork in brine." I responded, reading down the shopping list with mock attentiveness. "I think it's fashionable to consume things within small containers. Or at least keep them in the back of a cupboard until a nuclear strike."

"I do not see how this kind of grocery shopping is convenient." He stipulated. "There are so many strange things, many different brands. How do you know which to purchase?"

"In our case, we use the handy list gifted to us by one who is by far superior." I replied, reaching to gather a selection of creamed soups… once again in cans.

"Esme needs all of these items?" He pondered, handling the soup with certain interest. "I have no knowledge of half these ingredients." Came his utterance upon reading the label.

"The church is collecting for those less fortunate, if we don't put in our twopence, people start to talk." I replied. "Anything in an airtight container keeps longer, and we don't have to contend with the smell."

We stopped surreptitiously to _contemplate _mustard, as another customer came passed us. Jasper stopped breathing with immediate effect upon her approach, and assumed a stoic unwavering stance. I keenly made sure to keep between them at all times. Once she had found her desired item - and completely unaware of the possible danger- she ambled off down the next aisle. Leaving Jasper to resume his animated visage.

"See." I said, nudging my arm into his. "Not a single movement towards her, and your eyes didn't change one bit."

He gave me a tiny, very weak smile. "That is only because I consumed so much before we left."

"Did I have to stage a convention of any sort?" I retaliated.

"Well, no. But if I hadn't-"

"Did you bite, maul, or kill that woman?"

"No. But I could-"

"A little faith, please, Jasper." I exasperated, shaking his forearm to further emphasize my displeasure.

But I could hardly blame his shaky disposition. The past twelve months had not been particularly favourable on all accounts. At the beginning of the last year we have moved to Breed, Wisconsin. A tiny village on the edge of Nicolet National Forest. Carlisle had once again found work in the local medical center, while some of us began to contemplate attending the local community high school in the small city southwest of Breed. Eventually we had agreed, and the first steps were taken to inquire about enrolment come September.

Unfortunately, a spade of bad luck and unfortunate timing came our way. During a hunt we had become somewhat complacent; two hunters had found their way into Jasper's direct line of fire. Even with Alice's vision, we had been far too late to stop the bloodshed. In such a small dwelling as Breed, the disappearances attracted far too greater attention. Many local people began searching the forest area, and twice did the local sheriff appear at our door. It seemed every house was visited, multitudes of questions asked.

It was a family decision to leave. Once the dust had settled, we packed up and relocated a thousand miles to New York State.

Rosalie, as one perhaps can imagine, did not take to the move very well. And the tension turned into a horridly toxic atmosphere. Until finally, it was Emmett, who suggested he and Rosalie should take some time away, and they travelled up to Alaska to stay with the Denali's, just until things had calmed.

They returned five months later, looking more than relieved to be back. Rosalie clearly realised she was even more likely to get her attitude rebuffed, when in a house with three, very brash, very old former succubus.

While Jasper seemed to weather the most of it with his usual stoic outlook, it did not take the ability of an Empath, to see the underlying culpability he felt. But meaningless kind words did little to encourage a person so severe on his own achievements; instead actions were the only successful device. So we began over, building up his tolerance, bit by bit.

Early morning shopping excursions were a prime time, limited number of customers, many distracting scents, and an abundance of strange human foods to laugh at.

"We still have to get the… fabric softener." Jasper stipulated, as we headed towards the household items. "Esme requested, we forego the previous brand. But I'm afraid I'm too inept at laundry to understand what that means."

"We tried a cheaper brand… and we got what we paid for. Emmett attempted to iron his cotton trousers and pretty much ironed creases in them. You could have made a paper crane out of them, they were that stiff." I responded, grabbing for the most expensive softener on the shelves, in the desperate hope this would solve Emmett's issues.

"Right, so always get the more expensive fabric softener?" He retaliated.

"For the most part." I responded, preoccupied with my attempts to ignore the unsubtle gazes from the two young men loitering around the entrance. With their sharply pressed slacks and perfectly matching loafers, one could simply mistake them for department store mannequins.

"They are very keen." Jasper goaded, having noted my distraction with perfect ease. "Merit worthy dedication. Although, modern courtship always contrives to confuse me."

"Courtship has been replaced with merely staring at the object of your affection for a prolonged amount of time." I scoffed, guiding the front of the metal cart – and thusly Jasper- further down the aisle. "Until they get the hint… or they don't."

"And there is disappointment all around." Jasper finished with a blithe smile. "Makes you rather glad to already have a spouse."

"You don't have to tell me twice." I agreed. "Twenty six years of marriage and sometimes I'm still surprised to have such good fortune. The complexity of modern pursuits baffles me."

"In fear of sounding old… it does seem there are many modern faux pas." He responded quite intuitively. "Especially when it comes to those our physical age."

I was immediately reminded of the current - and very much persistent issue - of schooling; that had once again seen renewed vigour and the first steps towards attendance. Entering into the school system to further meet the expectations of _teen-ager _education, and to engage ourselves within modern society. "You're not wrong." I confessed. "But upon passing those boys on the way out, I don't want to partake in any _modern _powwows. Let's just make a swift exit."

"Excellent plan." He said. "An uncouth method of duck and cover."

With the final selection of items gathered, we finished up at the sales counter. While I neatly stacked the items, ready to be rung through the cash register; Jasper stood off to the one side. Any human would simply assume him to be absentmindedly gazing through the glass frontage, but the tight fists, stuffed deeply into his coat pockets, were a keen sign of something a little more sinister at work.

Luckily, by the time we came to leave, the two men who had been loitering around the doorway were gone. Most probably heading off to their local high school, for a day of curriculum based learning. Leaving us to comfortably depart without coming across another human, and drive the ten miles homeward.

But the sight that greeted us upon arrival home was something I could have done without. With a bag of groceries in arm, and Jasper bringing in the rest, the very first person I came across was Emmett. Standing impatiently in the lobby, sans trousers.

"Bloody hell, Em. Where are your trousers?" Finding myself forced to question our exact predicament; while Emmett continued to remain unfazed.

"In the wash." He responded plainly. "Well... waiting to be put in the wash. Did you get my softener?"

"Don't you have other pairs?" I wondered, jostling the grocery bag in my arms.

"Sure I do." Came the unbothered response. "But they're about to go into the wash too."

"All of them?"

"Do you have my softener?"

"Yes, yes." I waved, unable to help rolling my eyes as I dug around the bottom of the paper bag.

"It's in one of these." Jasper announced, gesturing to both bags precariously balanced in his arms as he came through the door. He did a rather comical double take, spying Emmett with an arched brow. "Where are your pants?" Came the instantaneous quizzical observation.

"They're _all_ in the wash." I supplied.

"Going in the wash." Emmett corrected. "I just need the fabric softener." He held out his hands expectantly, as if the item should be thusly deposited.

"You will have to wait." Jasper said, side-tracking him on his venture to the kitchen. "It's at the bottom."

But Emmett's complaints were muted, as the second demand came, louder and with a sprightliness only suited to the likes of Alice. "Did you get my dye?" She questioned, swinging from the banister and dropping onto the wooden flooring. Both she and Emmett following after Jasper, like some strange pied piper.

The two of them barely allowed Jasper to place the bag upon the table, before they delved in, rooting around without so much of a care towards the other items. Jasper having to catch a can of peaches as it rolled off the edge of the table.

Having found his bottle of fabric softener, Emmett disappeared into the laundry room, throwing a quick thanks in our general direction. Off to make right the terrible business of stiff fabric.

"Has Esme gone out?" I questioned.

"Yes, Esme and Carlisle left just before you came back." Alice replied, reading the back of the dye box. "Off to see that college dean."

"I can't believe he wanted to speak to Carlisle." I ranted, handing Jasper the various cans to place within our usually unused cupboards.

"Did you read the letter the Dean sent?" Alice replied, half her attention taken by the copious amount of scripture that called itself instructions.

"Such long and pretentious words, it was sickening to read." I summed. "It was almost as if he was trying to confuse her with disgustingly pompous prose."

"It seems we can do nothing without having permission." Alice responded, the lightness of the inclination did not suit the depth of her words.

"Did he specifically ask to speak to Carlisle?" Jasper queried, twisting each individual can so the labels all faced forwards.

"Yes… well not in those words. But it was heavily implied that consent was needed. God forbid, a _Doctor's wife_ should wish to make her own decisions." I said.

"I suspect the head of academia will be in for a shock. While Esme had the patience of a saint, she will not allow anyone to speak down to her." Jasper summed. "I have found her to be highly accomplished when it comes to a war with words."

"You have not seen her during a fight." I jested. "Don't ever underestimate Esme, I have seen her tear through the throat of a nomad with surprising ease."

"I hope she puts this…Dean in his place." Replied Alice finally, bundling the various bottles in her arms and joining Emmett in the laundry room.

While Jasper finished unpacking the last of the grocery bags, I took one of the seats around the circular table. Fishing through the daily dump of mail that got shoved into our tiny mailbox at the end of the drive. Trying to spot my name or any kind of alias I had been known to use; but through the junk and predictable bills we received, was a shiny bound prospectus. Embezzled with the name of a local high school.

"So this is the one." I queried aloud, viewing the photograph of the school building with a less than delighted glance. "Saranac High School. Sounds _charming._"

"If you are so averse to going, it's not too late to change your mind." Jasper remarked, taking the opposite seat to sort through his own mail.

"That's what you think." I implored. "But Rosalie has me on a verbal agreement that has some pretty interesting ramifications should I choose not to attend.

"What could possibly get you to make an agreement with her?"

Rather abashed did I find sudden interest in the school brochure. "She let me drive the Jaguar." Muttering out the rather pitiful reason for her besting me.

"Did you at least get to drive it far?" He questioned, trying to justify my reasoning but failing to hide his amusement.

"Dannemora." I admitted, for it was a terribly pitiful round trip of ten miles.

"And was it worth it?" He questioned with a half-smile, sorting the mail into neat piles for each person in the house. "Entering into tacit agreement."

"It would have been." I confessed. "Had Rosalie not been in the passenger seat the whole ride."

"Ah, she has rather cleverly backed you into a corner." Jasper noted. "But on the bright side… graduation is only two years away."

"You know, Jasper, for an Empath… pep talks are not your strong point." I jibed. As expected, there came a sudden onslaught of feelings, lacking the subtly that Jasper had perfected over the years, but instead bold and without sly tact. As much as I tried to fight against it, he succeeded in making my lips twitch upwards. He grinned as I kicked him under the table, subsiding the elation to further prove his prowess against my jibe. "Touché, touché. You have salvaged your empathic reputation."

"Success."

His cheer was slightly cut short, as Alice call for his attention in the laundry room. Needing him to mix the dye chemicals. The rubber gloves supplied were apparently too big for her hands, and Emmett had refused to do the dirty work.

Without company, I used the time to mull over my impending enrolment as a student. Considering the guide with more than the initial distaste.

The school was small. Only three hundred students. Averaging on fifteen per class. A decent size for us; small enough to keep our control under check, but enough commotion to defer the impact of our arrival.

Most of the classes listed seemed tolerable. I'd rather have vetoed home economics right upon the spot, but it was unfortunately compulsory for female students. As was woodwork and metal work for males. Sport was freely available to most; while the 'chiefs' football team were clearly the pride of the school, they boasted no titles or trophies. It looked as if those who played for the football team also played on the baseball team, and as athletes upon the track teams. Obvious sporting talent somewhat difficult to source with such a tiny student populous.

Undoubtedly, Emmett would enjoy himself. Even if he'd have to partake as a human, he had always been one of the most competitive.

There was little point in finding complains now, the new semester was only a month or so away. We'd have the make the most of it, be more like Emmett, and find enjoyment in the smaller things. It was probably the only way we would survive.

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><p><em>AN: I'm currently writing up the last of my dissertation research, and studying for finals. While I hope this will not interfere with my writing, I will try to keep any delays to a minimum. Good luck for anyone being forced to endure exams, hope you beat those procrastination demons._

_Please do leave a review. _


	99. Chapter Ninety Eight: An Education

_A/N: Hello, all. Thank you so much for your continuing patience. My final exams and dissertation are going well, just freaking out a little over my crime scene walk through. But as long as I remember everything I've learnt over the last three years… I'm sure everything will be fine. Although that is my priority at the moment, I'll do my best to keep updates as regular as possible._

_Thanks to everyone who was kind enough to leave me a review, put this story on alert or favoured. As well as a big thanks for the addition of this story to another community. _

_viola1701e: Glad you enjoyed the last chapter, I missed having Jasper around… being forced to do mundane tasks. I can't imagine many would be disappointed with a trouserless Emmett. Thanks for the review._

_vxgt: Thank you for the review. Having been in the south for so long, I guess Jasper's control is not as strong as the others, but with something to work towards, I like to think he'll succeed in overcoming it. And Jasper/Bella bonding is always a real favourite of mine. _

_Holidai: Thank you so much for all your lovely comments, glad to hear you enjoyed the last chapter Finals are going well so far, I just hope they continue to go well. _

_Raven lives: I think Bella would be great at woodwork, another skill to add to her repertoire. But during the fifties and onwards up to the Women's Liberation Movement, women were primarily viewed as homemakers, learning skills such as home economics was a much more practical skill. While men were educate in trades such as carpentry, metal work, automotive, ensuring even if they did not progress onto college they could find employment. Thanks for the review, hope I haven't rambled too much. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the right to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter Ninety Eight<span>

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Unlike most days, where I had the ability to go about my business in which ever manner I deemed fit - including business that meant loitering around the house lazily – today was the first of an official agenda. And the usual control I had over my time was replaced with a routine.

I was forced to dress myself in an outfit that met with the restrictions of the school institute; enforcing neatness, tidiness, and appearing meticulously well groomed. Foregoing any type of jewelry. Becoming the epitome of presentability. I had to take extra care when fixing my hair, to make sure it remained in style with today's American youth.

This was not a place for 'uncouth tomfoolery, or delinquents ' or so said the school principle upon our meeting. For the head of a school institute, he seemed to have rather a nervous disposition when it came to young people, not aided by his meeting with us. Our rather formidable family unit, crammed into his small office. Discussing our _special_ measures; unarguable reasons for possible sudden absences. There were only so many times one man could possibly wipe his brow.

But regardless to his nervousness, he readily agreed to our unusual demands, almost unwilling to disagree with Carlisle. Enrolling the four of us without too much fuss, and only ever speaking to us to confirm our names and those we understood the stated rules.

A week later and the new school year was upon us; today being the very first day as a junior high school student. We were amply prepared, with all the necessary items one would possibly need to succeed, pens, pencils, notebooks... other stationary related objects. New clothes, decisively plain and unassuming, perfectly in keeping with the rules of style and length. And in the recesses of small town living, fitting in with the masses was most probably key to a successful existence.

So I fiddled with each of the tiny fabric buttons on my blouse, fastening them right up to the hollow of my neck. Tucking the fabric into the billowing skirt that neatly ended past my knees; primly embroidered with some rather cutesy flowers around the hem. It wasn't exceedingly terrible, the overall style was something I would consider, but the excessive pale mute tones made it feel so felicitous.

Once I had gaged the strictness of the dress code, I promised myself something a little more flattering.

Having given myself the final once over, and decided that was as good as it was going to get, off I trailed down the hall in search of Rosalie. Almost bumping into Emmett as he barrelled towards the stairs; pressed slacks and smartly dressed. I didn't have time to respond to his call of 'good morning,' he was already down the stairs, having jumped from half way. And following on behind at a sedated, and rather loathsome pace, her school bag hanging limply in her fingers, Rosalie looked far from happy.

"Good morning," I began with pep that was sure to aggravate her further.

"Is it?" she scoffed. "Today is the day we say goodbye to freedom." A rather dramatic statement even for her.

"You do know we're going to school, and not being incarcerated?"

"Same difference, as far as I'm concerned," came her usual hard edged response.

"Oh, that won't do for a reply," I said, grabbing my satchel as we followed after Emmett's lead. "It might not all be so bad," came my best attempt. "And it's not like we can back out now, so we'll have to just deal with it."

She did not respond with anything coldly witty, instead - strangely - just nodded in apparent understanding. Perhaps a poly to keep herself in good graces, seeing as she'd need all the allies she could get to survive this experience. Her agreeableness continued all through the very early morning, but seemed to only truly extend to Emmett, Edward, and I.

"I made you lunches," Esme told us as we readied ourselves to leave. "At least that way you won't be forced to eat the school's cooked meals. And if you do have to eat your lunch, it's only butter in the sandwiches, and an apple. Nothing overly repulsive." She handed us our designated lunches; to which I immediately hid away in my bag. Hoping in earnest, it would not come down to that.

While she wished us luck, Carlisle reminded us to try and blend it best we could, his encouragement carefully concealing an indication of best behaviour. Emmett assured him everything would be fine, but that really did nothing to dispel Carlisle's apprehension. But the rest of us were slightly laxed to dispel his worry, even Alice could not see the outcome of this day.

So we could only give him our best encouraging smiles, and promise to do our best not to send anyone to the hospital mortuary.

We piled into the Impala, trying to avoid being pelted with the downpour; another sudden weather event that could not be dubbed phenomena, rather an everyday occurrence. For there always seemed to be a sudden splattering of rain, whenever one wished to go anywhere.

Having been beaten to the punch by Rosalie and Emmett tag teaming the front, Edward and I were forced to ride backseat and endure the music choice... which was rather eclectic. And as much as I loved Elvis, listening to him on constant repeat, got a little grating after a while.

"Do you think we'll have to eat the food we make in home ec?" Rosalie questioned, her gaze pointed through the rear view mirror.

"I don't know," I shrugged, "probably. Or try other peoples cooking."

"Why must food be involved in everything?" She grumbled.

"So I take it you'll be skipping lunch?" Edward joked, "Even after all that hard work Esme put into making it."

"Esme gave me two sandwiches," Emmett said quite proudly, "but I suppose that's because I'm a growing boy. Unfortunately the rest of you only have one."

"I have two," Edward corrected, "not... that it actually matters."

"It's much more believable for you both to have more food. Let's just hope we don't have to go through with it. We're odd enough without having to vomit up our lunch," I retaliated.

"How lovely..." Rosalie said with a look of disgust. "Putting such an image in my mind."

"Just keeping it real," I responded. "Wouldn't want you to go romanticizing high school."

"I think we're quite safe on that front," she muttered.

"Come on, Rose. It's going to be fun," Emmett promised. "All the learning, new experiences. Graduating with an employment worthy diploma."

"You just quoted the school prospectus," Edward pointed out.

"I hope you know Jenks Senior is a purveyor of documents, you could have had a diploma from any high school you wanted," I said. "Weather not an issue. You did know that was a possibility, right?"

"It's not the same," Emmett said, taking his hand off the steering wheel to wave away my declaration. "It's cheating if you don't do it for real."

"I'm going to have to agree," Edward said. "As much as it pains me."

"The two of you lack any kind of cunning," Rosalie told them smartly. "How you've survived so far is a mystery to me, putting yourselves through unnecessary hardships."

"Aren't you technically putting yourself through an unnecessary _hardship_?" Edward replied, giving the back of her head a derisive look.

"I'm here to make sure the three of you don't do anything stupid," she replied.

"Hey," I protested, "you said I was cunning. And I'm more than capable of generally functioning in society. Don't count me in with the stupidity."

"Thanks," Edward objected, "I thought we were a team."

"I love you, and I'm attending school with you. What more do you want?" I responded conclusively, curbing anymore comments from him.

The drive to Saranac took roughly thirty minutes, but with such slick, water logged roads, coinciding with the apprehension of the unknown, the journey seemed to take impossibly longer. Made worse as the conversation eventually began to stall, then died completely died. Only permeated by the Clinton County weather report on the radio, which bore only news of similar rainfall for the next couple of days.

No matter how much I attempted to listen and distract myself with new of the oncoming rainstorm, there was a distinct lack of obedience within my mind. As it felt the need to bombard me with all the terrible things that could possibly go wrong, or ways in which I could utterly fail at being a student. I was not nervous. No. It was more an uneasy feeling, slightly jittery... maybe ever so slightly nerve induced. More or less apprehensive.

And not at all helped when Emmett loudly exclaimed we had finally arrived, his gusto was not quite shared with anyone else in the car; even Edward seemed to have forgotten his enthusiasm for education.

Bar a handful of old forties cars and one newer Buick Super, the parking lot was void of any student life. Which - due to a prearrangement with the principle - was to be expected.

Before we could even consider beginning high school life, there came a great stack of paperwork that needed to be explained and filled in. And so, we were thusly summoned at an earlier hour. Judging from the bronze plaque that declared the Principles parking spot, and the Buick that had justly parked in said spot, we presumed Mr Moser was already here.

With two large umbrellas in our midst, there was a hasty shuffle from the car to avoid the rain; naturally assembling with our mates. Making the most of the limited physical contact we could have with one another, from this point onwards our relationships had to appear simply platonic in nature. Horrifically epitomize, as we were forced to place our wedding bands in the basement safe. Taking-up the guise of a frankly strange family unit, in which supposed 'biological relations' were terribly complex.

All the better to confuse the humans.

"We're here," Emmett supplied, surveying the great double fronted brick building. Pulling a reluctant Rosalie onwards towards the entrance, leaving us behind.

"If we keep a large enough gap between us, how likely is it we can pretend not to be with them?" I queried. But no sooner had I said this, than Emmett hollered us over with a beckoning arm.

"I think that answers your question," Edward stated, "and I suppose by the end of the day, it will be impossible."

"I should think there will be some truly brilliant rumours circulating by then," I agreed.

The first task of the day was not so brilliant, upon entering the Principles office, we were bombarded with a heap of papers. Made to sign on numerous dotted lines, agree to some exceedingly patronising school rules, before being handed a shoddily drawn map and taken on a very brief tour of the building.

Once the walk through was declared over, the principle merely wished us luck and disappeared… quite hastily and without giving us further instruction.

"I guess that's the initiation over," I muttered, trying to find any sort of timetable in the horde of paper in my arms. "Lot of help it did."

"Where are we supposed to go?" Rosalie ranted. "Or are we supposed to guess?"

"Let's just find our schedules," Edward suggested, dumping his pile of papers atop a line of lockers, and helping me find anything of use in my own. As expected, it was the last item, bottom of the pile and in no way identifiable from anything else. But at least it had some distinguishing and relevant information.

Listing my name – surname proceeding first name – my current grade, homeroom, locker number, before listing my address, and parent/guardian. A lot of seemingly personal information; not something I would wish to lose. "I think we have homeroom first?" I attempted to deduce the slightly smudged type righter ink.

"Sounds about right," Emmett agreed, "we always had homeroom before lessons began." He finally found his timetable and proceeded to read with rapture; ever so slightly tarnished as he mouthed the words 'health' with a quizzical brow.

"Homeroom 218," Rosalie said.

"Same here," I noted.

"304," Announced Emmett.

"Same," Edward declared.

"Guess we're splitting up," came the quiet declaration from Rosalie; who tried to look unbothered by playing with the cuff of her shirt.

"Could be worse," I tried to soothe, "at least we have some classes together. You and I have World and US History together."

"And we have geometry together," Edward told me, comparing our schedules.

"At least that's something," I said, making an attempt to file away all the unneeded papers in my notebook. "I just have to survive the other lessons and home economics alone."

"You'll be fine," Edward attempted to console.

"Come on, Bella," Rosalie called for my attention, already moving in the right direction "let's go find homeroom. Get seats next to a window; if this fails spectacularly at least we can make a quick escape."

"I like your thinking," I praised, starting after her long strides; almost two of my own to match her pace. Unable to help but turn around last minute, wishing the school instigators luck in a rather mordant manner.

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><p>The chalk dust seemed to hover and dance in the air, before exploding outwards in great waves as Mr Henke smacked together the two blackboard erasers. Even at arm's length, some of the white powder stuck to the sleeves and lapels of his brown woollen suit.<p>

"This is US History for those smart enough to have realised," – he smacked the erasers together again – "and for those who have not, let's hope you wake up from _summer break stupor_ before the final examinations. Or you'll be attending gas pumps for the next fifty years." He placed the erasers back on their ledge, wiping his hands on the conveniently placed rag. Eyes narrowing over the seats and each human currently occupying them. "Perhaps I should place Miss Cullen and Miss Hale at the front of the class," he remarked without humour, "for they seem to be having more luck with class attention than the likes of me."

In marionette synchronisation their little necks snapped with a crack of speed, facing the front with adept embarrassment.

"Excellent," Mr Henke exclaimed drolly, "I suppose by now you have noticed we have two new students. Yes, they are new. And yes, you have never seen them before. But it does not warrant staring like spectators at the zoo. Let's try and at least give them the impression we are civilised human beings. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Sir," the broad range of replies answered.

"Good," he said, "let's continue onwards. First and foremost, for the benefit of those who did not have me in previous years and the benefit of new students, I am Mr Henke," – he scripted his name neatly upon the top right hand corner of the board – "but Sir will suffice if you happen to forget."

Humorously some noted down his name atop their notebooks.

"As stated before, this is US History. And for the benefit of those stated before, Mr Mackey, seeing as you were fortunate enough to have me last year, tell us what was it we studied?"

The boy in question pursed his lips nervously, his heart drumming so loudly I was surprised his desk neighbour could not hear it. "Erm, the Revolutionary War?" He questioned meekly.

"Quite a broad topic wouldn't you say, Mr Mackey? Can we possibly be a little more specific?"

"The onset… the French and Indian War… erm, The Stamp Act?"

"Indeed, ignoring Mr Mackey's ability to question his own knowledge, he is correct. We looked at - in some depth - the events leading up to the Revolutionary War. Including The French and Indian War, The Stamp Act, and onwards to The Continental Association. If you don't know this or can't recall, do your reading."

"The windows ajar," Rosalie whispered, her eyes remained trained on our teacher as he began discussing this year's topic, "escaping is still a possibility."

"And deprive ourselves of Mr Henke's continuing sardonic attitude? He's about the only member of the faculty who doesn't seem anxious about us."

"True," she muttered, "he didn't even flinch when I handed over my sign off card."

"How old do you think he is? Late fifties? He's probably seen some pretty interesting things as a teacher," I replied, beginning to take some pseudo notes.

"Strange to think you and he are almost the same age," she quipped, jotting down her own set of records, "although, I think you have a couple of years on him."

"Says you," I jibed. "You can't be more than a decade younger than him."

"A decade? More like a decade and a half," She retaliated.

She had the last word, as I was forced to accept a pile of paper sheets being handed to me by a girl sat in front. Who strangely refused to make eye contact, letting go of the pile before I had even grasped them. Most dropped onto my desk, but a sad few fluttered away to the floor.

"It seems we are incapable of even the simplest of tasks," Mr Henke sighed. "Miss Cullen if you'd be so kind as to round up the strays, for your classmate seems determined to litter my floor."

"Yes, Sir," I replied automatically, getting up from my seat to collect those encircling my desk. One of which Rosalie had her foot upon, and took her time removing. I thusly issued her the sheet with her footprint on it.

The rest of the class proceeded with no other accident or haphazard, the bell rang and we were dismissed to our next classes. I went to the mysteries of health, and Rosalie disappeared to algebra.

Perhaps the initial early morning experiences had given me a rather one sided, easy view of high school, because it seemed once the initial sleepy daze had worn off that the students were more than rambunctious. Walking through the hallways, was both a horrific and strangely exhilarating experience. I had never seen so many young people crammed together. Moving from class to class, talking, laughing, and yelling.

Initially – and most probably due to my small stature – I was overlooked, which allowed me to go almost unnoticed. But the moment notice was paid, it seemed every person in the hallway suddenly became aware of me. They stared without any mind to conceal, nudging one another, whispering. It was little wonder the freshmen students skirted around nervously, or walked in groups. High school could be an intimidating place.

But it was impossible to feel so browbeaten when you were almost four times their age and quite a bit more predatory in nature than the average student.

And unfortunately we were predators with a rapacious disposition that made its appearance when one wished it would not. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to indulge itself, and _said_ opportunity arose.

The door at the end of the corridor slammed shut as a student passed through, cutting off the draft that had ventilated the space. Now within the sealed passage their hearts seemed to beat impossibly louder, pumping gushing's of blood round their bodies. The long, narrow hallway did nothing to aid the strength of the scents, only heightening the pull. For the first time in a long while, I had to swallow down a mouth full of venom and cease breathing all together. Moving swiftly past the numerous bodies, never making eye contact, for I knew my eyes were no longer gold in colour.

It looked like lunch would be spent _eating_ after all, just not within the school cafeteria.

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><p><em>AN: Once again thank you so much for being patience. It feels like I have been writing this chapter for months. Please do leave a review, it's always nice to hear what everyone thinks of the chapter. _


	100. Chapter Ninety Nine: Geometry

_A/N: Hello, lovelies. I have finally finished all my exams and crime scene walk through, which I think went quite well. Thank you for all the words of support. I can't believe we have reached (almost reached) one hundred chapters, this is the ninety ninth chapter, plus preface, so technically the next will be the official one hundred… but I'm delighted to have one hundred documents up nonetheless. Thank you for your continuing support, you guys are amazing for sticking with me this long. _

_Holidai: I'm really glad you thought it was realistic; I spent so long researching and trying to plan the best way to make it so. Vampire's going to school was strangely something that took quite a bit of consideration. Thanks for your continuing support and great review._

_vxgt: Thank you for reviewing, hope you like this chapter too. _

_TheVioletContradiction: Yeah, I think Mr Henke is my favourite teacher so far, most of the human characters in this story are based off people I know or have known. Although, I'm not quite sure who Mr Henke reminds me of. Thanks for reviewing, hope you enjoy this one too. _

_CullenBoy123: I'm really glad I finally have the chance to write about school, it's been an extremely long time coming, but such fun to write. Thank you for your review and the luck for my walk through, it went very (except the coverall I had was way too big, and I felt like a giant cloud.)_

_viola1701e: Thank you for reviewing. A flask of blood really made me laugh. But I suppose getting the blood from the animal into a container would be a messy process; maybe a vampire entrepreneur can start at alternative abattoir and harvest and sell blood… that's a lovely thought. _

_Necroenesis: Thank you so much for your review, I love hearing other people's thoughts on different aspects. You raise a really good point about scars, and funny enough it is something I wrestled with in the beginning. Initially, when Bella first became enthralled within the southern wars, I think you are completely right, scars are not only something to be proud of, but also a symbol of hierarchal dominance over the rest. Like you said, most fights ended in death. _

_However, it is once Bella becomes aware of the vampire society away from the south that I began to change her stance. I think it's in chapter two or three, in which she comes across other nomads and very quickly, comes to understand the gravity of war stigma. Indeed, those other vampire's understand the meaning of the scars…evidently a person who has cheated death many times. _

_While she and Jasper share a past, they do not share a mind-set. Her desire to become an unwavering part of the Cullen family possibly means she sees her scars as a physical difference, (at least that is what I think.) I hope as time goes on and she grows as a character, that there will be eventual acceptance towards her past. Thanks once again for the review, you have brought up a really great point._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga_.

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><p><span>Chapter Ninety Nine: Geometry<span>

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"It is crucial as future homemakers, you learn to master the basics before attempting anything too complex," Mrs Posmer said, pushing her tortoise shell glasses up the bridge of her nose. "For the first semester of this school year, we will be concentrating on nutrition and diet alongside food preparation. Learning to create balanced, well rounded meals that will help keep your family healthy. Remember, the more proficient a homemaker you become, the more happy your home."

I watched as she swished from one side of the class to the other, her beaded eyeglass chain swinging rather violently with each turn she made. An entrancing view that beat watching the clock, or creating a mass of swirls on my paper.

"Now it is important, ladies, that you study your textbooks and dutifully take care to practice skills at home," Mrs Posmer announced, "it is the only way you can improve. Do not hesitate to ask your mothers, since I'm sure they are more than happy to pass down their skills and knowledge. You must come to understand at your age you are no longer children, and therefore cannot expect your Mothers to do everything for you. Cooking, cleaning, running to the grocery store, these tasks are a must. And good practice for the future."

Her ability to make quite sensible declarations were ultimately ruined by a patronising after thought; that succeeded in placing a fair bit of pressure on the shoulders of each child in the class. For that's what they were, children dressed in adult clothes, with no real experience of the world yet.

"In the upcoming weeks we will be studying diet and food preparation during times of hardship - so very crucial during such times as these. Most of you will have aided your family in building a fallout shelter, or for those living closer to town, will have made arrangements for a safe place," – she paused to write 'nuclear rations' on the blackboard – "and by now each of your families will have received a Nuclear War Survival Skills pack. Which includes a chapter on acceptable foods for your shelters."

I fought against the urge to ask which I should do first… build a functioning nuclear shelter, or acquire a mother, because so far I wasn't doing too well in either departments.

"Now I want you to get together with your bench partner, make a list of all the acceptable and unacceptable foods," Mrs Posmer stated, writing the task in chalk should we happen to forget.

The girl next to me seemed to ever so slightly shudder at the prospect of being my partner, twisting a loose curl at the nape of her neck. "Hello," I began, offering a sincere smile that remained free of any predatory inclinations, "I'm Isabella."

"Linda," she replied quietly.

"Nice to meet you," I tried to be as encouraging as possible, seeing as I would be needing this particular humans aid when it came to the actual preparation of food. "Would you like me to scribe?"

"If you don't mind," She mumbled, fingering the edge of her paper.

"Not at all. Let's list the things we're not permitted first, I think it's always easier to do those," I began, trying to prompt her into conversation. "Do you have a fallout shelter?"

She nodded, making no insinuation that she would add anything more. Which, incidentally, was probably the best. My small talk was acceptable, but would hardly win any merits when it came to building relationships. I excelled at topics that discussed the stock market, recent development of integrated circuit boards, and the best place to hunt bears in New York State. These however, were a rather select bunch of topics that tended to slim down the conversation partners.

"We have one at the bottom of the garden," I began, tying up the loose end of the conversation I had already started, "it was already built when we bought the house. Although, if it wasn't for my _brother_, Emmett, accidentally mowing over the entrance hatch, we'd never have found it."

"Mowed over it?" she questioned quizzically. "How'd he do that?"

"The previous owners had built the shelter into the side of a natural slope in the garden, then covered the stairs with a concrete slab. Overtime moss had grown on it, so he mowed right over it. Almost snapped the mower blade right in two, it made a terrible noise," I recalled.

"Was there anything inside?"

"Nothing other than a couple of cans of multi-purpose food… which we can incidentally add to our list of things that are allowed," I said, jotting down the precooked protein-rich can of 'food.'

Between the two of us - which mostly involved single word inputs from my partner - the list was more or less completed by the time Mrs Posmer clapped to signal the cessation of the task. By which we were all forced to stand and read out our constructed lists, the entirety of the class having more or less written exactly the same things.

The last half of the class we spent discussing ration meal plans; the ideal amount of food for different ages and genders. All the while I could not help but admire the humans' ability to plan for death, hoping for the best, meticulously planning for the worst.

When the final bell did ring, I made a job of placing my items back into my satchel, rearranging the contents from one side to the other. Before requesting that Mrs Posmer sign my first day report card, as she proceeded to asked me mundane questions about my day so far. I responded with simple answers, that didn't truly reflect my actual thoughts on the subject, and certainly didn't acknowledge my disappearance from campus during the lunch hour.

"I hope you shall enjoy your time here, Miss Cullen," she said.

"So do I," came my genuine reply. Although, I knew it was doubtful I would enjoy the dietary aspects of home economics... excelling in that kind of topic came down to experience and practice. Something I could not recommend for myself; I'd most probably have to copy Rosalie's homework.

Upon entering out into the now much emptier corridor, I was immediately greeted by Edward who met me at the door. His slight penchant for worry was easily indicated by the crease of his brow.

"Everything alright?" I questioned, holding books against my chest to avoid the temptation of linking my arm through his.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," he responded, "Rosalie says you went to hunt, and you were not here during recesses either."

"She's not lying," I said, "but no need to fret, just…underestimated my control when it came to the main corridor, it's like a heat box when the windows and doors are closed. Thought it best to go out to eat. We don't want any accidents, best not send one to Carlisle on the first day."

"I would have come with you," he said earnestly, attempting to catch my elbow.

"And deny you the pleasure of eating in a cafeteria," - I avoided his advance - "we have an image to uphold. And I shouldn't wish to disappoint those who have hopes pinned to my marital status," I teased.

"Then perhaps we should dash their hopes now, give them time to recover," came his quick response, "wouldn't take much. The rate of news really does travel phenomenally fasts amongst humans... especially when it's the intriguing kind."

"I think they're intrigued enough with our weirdness, let's not add to it."

We eventually found our geometry classroom, hidden away on the ground floor of the west end of the building. Rather boxy and containing nothing but the essential classroom furniture, and our teacher who seemed so very spindly, the word _concave_ came to mind when examining his physique.

I was rather put out to discover there was a pre-planned, alphabetised seating chart, and we - along with the other students - were appointed to our places. However, through an absolute fluke of a coincidence, or perhaps a lack of surnames between Cullen and Mason, when the allocation snaked down the row next to me, I found Edward seated across the way.

"That was lucky," I whispered, as our fragile teacher pointed the last students to their seats, "thought I'd have to suffer through geometry all by myself."

"I have always been under the impression you quite liked maths," he responded in a humorously hushed voice, "have I been misreading the situation wrong all these years?"

"I do like it," I responded, waiting for our teacher to turn his back before I continued, "but this is geometry…I don't think I have much use for it."

"I'm Mr Downer," announced our teacher in monotone, "and this is geometry. Unlike in previous years, halfway through this term you will be moved into groups that coincide with your ability. Intermediate or advanced placements, determined by the result of the midterm exams."

There came a quiet, but collective groan from many of the students; their group disappointment seemed to amuse Edward, although I wasn't fortunate enough to be privy to the exact reason. While the initial bombardment of minds had initially perturbed him - and on occasion riffled his temper - he had found enjoyment in humorous thoughts.

I was glad he found entertainment; it was such a far cry from the juvenile vampire I had met forty year prior, who struggled to sort through the mass of thoughts that came his way. Forty years had taught him well.

Yet I on the other hand, had failed to progress at all with my apparent 'gift.' Since returning from the desert a decade ago, my mental capabilities had never resurfaced. Never a flutter, shift, or change. The mastery I had gained over my gift simply vanished, almost having never really existed. Eleazar said it was still there, still present...just seemingly dormant.

I didn't miss it. I hadn't really understood it. But that was not to say I hadn't tried to harness it, I had tried, it just didn't work. Maybe I had to be in mortal danger for it to work, and that was something that thankfully had been void from our lives ever since.

In fact, we hadn't come across many nomads since the Volturi had come across the sea; Carlisle speculated they were keeping a low profile. News of the Mexican massacre had filtered across the continent and undoubtedly reached other groups in other locations, no matter where one lived or resided, news of a mobile Volturi was not good news. The vampire community seemed to be keeping a low profile.

Who could blame them, while we had seen and heard nothing of the Volturi, they had been – and most certainly still were - regrouping. Creating and _recruiting _those of interest. Gifted nomads were easy targets. It was little wonder they were keeping themselves hidden away.

"Lend me a pen," Edward whispered.

"Why? What have you done with yours?" I responded, keeping my eyes trained on Mr Downer as he rummaged through a draw in search of chalk.

"I think Emmett took mine," he mumbled in annoyance. "Can I borrow one, please?"

With Mr Downer having almost fallen into his desk draw by this point, he did not see me half-throw, half-pass a pen to Edward. In fact, he did not seem to notice anything, as the class became a little impatient and began whispering to nearby desk neighbours.

Talking amongst one another, mostly complaining about being forced to sit through the monotonous nature of geometry, and once the complaining had ceased, it seemed to turn towards us. Commenting on the paleness of our skin, wondering what sort of climate could cause such pallor. Before the conversation turned towards the elusive Dr and Mrs Cullen, speculating over why they should choose to adopt so many.

For all the humorous reasons they gave, not one ever mentioned the possibility that it came down to a sheer desire to have a family. No. That reason seemed far too ordinary.

"Settle down, settle down," Mr Downer called quietly, banging a heavy yard stick against his desk to enhance his pitiful volume. "Mr Smith, please delegate out the textbooks to the rest of the class."

Two boys from the end row both jerked forward as if to stand, before giving each other a quizzical look and sitting back down. "Erm, Mr Downer, Sir, which of us do you mean?" the stockier of the two questioned.

He squinted through his glasses, strangely seeming to consider them both. "There are two of you?"

Edward and I shared a look, half disbelief, half humour.

"Y-yes, Sir," the same Smith replied dubiously. "I'm Ronnie, and he's" – he jerked his thumb towards the boy behind – "Jack."

"Related?" Mr Downer's rather irrelevant question.

"No, Sir," Replied Ronnie, doing well to keep a straight face.

"Very well," Mr Downer said, turning towards the blackboard. "Robbie, hand out the books, please."

"It's _Ronnie_, Sir," said he, rising to grab a pile of books from the side, receiving no acknowledgement from our teacher.

For Mr Dower seemed to be too grossed in placing his piece of chalk in the pronged holder, to take any notice of Ronnie. When he finally managed to fix the chalk in place and begin to write, the squeaky sound it emitted was ear splitting, squealing at an inhuman pitch. Causing a shiver of retaliation to run the length of my spine.

"Do you still think I am wrong in my dislike for geometry," I hissed towards Edward. "This is painful."

"Well, technically we haven't actually started geometry yet," he replied weakly.

The hours progressed much the same manner as the beginning of class, while we eventually began the lesson; our teacher had a strange affinity for getting distracted. On occasion diverting the topic onto something unrelated, before eventually recalling the original and starting again. Of the hour of teaching, I was sure only a quarter of that time was valid geometry. With Mr Downer's observational skills a little sub-par, I was free to read through the textbook without interruption.

Teaching myself the things I was unfamiliar with.

Nonetheless, the class dragged painfully. The hour seemed to span for an age.

When the little metal bell finally rang and class was dismissed, the humans moved at an alarmingly fast pace, practically running in their haste to get out. We managed to coerce Mr Downer into signing our reports - having to wait while he found a pen – and eventually following on after the fleeing humans.

Once handing back the horde of papers that had required teacher signatures; practically dumping them onto the desk of the school secretary. We were finally free to leave.

The outside world had never looked so glorious. And riding in a car with Emmett's musical taste seemed like a completely tolerable prospect. With a mental weariness that seemed to have only gotten stronger as the day wore on, I all but fell against the soft leather interior of the car and threw my bag limply into the foot well.

"Where's Em?" I queried, noting the missing member of our clan.

Rosalie threw her bag in through the passenger side door, quickly sliding into her seat and slamming the door shut. "He said he'd follow on," she said, depositing the car keys on the driver's seat.

"He's gone to scout out the sporting department," Edward informed us.

"I told him it was a bad idea," Rosalie scowled, "not that he ever listens to reason."

"Well, as long as he's careful... it's not impossible." I tried, regretting my words immediately as they came out of my mouth.

"Don't be absurd, _Bella_," she called me out; "school is one thing, partaking in human sport is another. All it would take is him killing one of them, and then we'd have to move again. And I'm not going through enrollment for a third time."

"I said it wasn't impossible... not that it was a good idea, _Rosie_."

"It doesn't matter anyway," she muttered her final declaration, "he can't play against humans. It's a foolish idea."

"Emmett will do as he pleases," Edward said, putting in his two cents. "I wouldn't be surprised if he did sign up."

There was no other comments on the subject, as Rosalie fiddled with the radio dial in apparent retaliation of its continuation.

We waited in the muggy heat of the late afternoon, watching the hordes of students catch their buses. While a thick layer of cloud remained across the sky, the temperature on the ground was sweltering. A strangely hot late summer day.

The humans lethargically fanned themselves with paper or books; popping open the tiny bus windows in an attempt to circulate the air in the sweltering metal boxes. But without a breath of wind, nothing would sufficiently aid the hot temperatures.

While the cloud to the west looked pure white, the same could not be said for that in the opposite sky. The cloud did not retain its bellowing appearance, but instead blanketed the east with a bluish grey tint. A darkness that usually promised a storm.

"Looks like rain," Edward announced, his gaze on the same ominous cloud formation.

"And the rest," I responded. "Looks like an electrical storm. I suppose going to the drive in cinema will have to wait, we'd not see the film for the rain."

"There's always the indoor theatre in Plattsburgh?" he suggested.

"That's not a horrible idea," I declared, "if we go to a later showing it will probably be quieter."

"I can't believe you kept up these date nights for so long," Rosalie commented, pushing her sunglasses up her nose. "I pegged you both for a month, before getting distracted by something else."

"Well, you'd be extremely wrong," Edward responded. "How long has it been, love?"

"Two and a half months, _dear_. Once a week, every week."

Even from behind her tinted sunglasses, I could see Rosalie's eyes roll. But she could not openly disregard romance, for it was only three years prior that she and Emmett had gotten married _again._ Their very first ceremony may have been a small affair, but the second was not. They went the whole way. Imported fabrics, immaculately decorated venue, our extended family in attendance. Very lavish and extremely expensive. The exact phrase I would use to sum up Rosalie.

But she was happy. And we were happy for her.

"I wish he'd hurry up," Rosalie sighed once again, "I really want to hunt. I wish I'd had the foresight to go at lunch, come and get me next time, Isabella. The cafeteria is really grim."

"No problem." I responded absent-mindedly, busily taking out a small handful of hair pins, having grown discontent with the style. "You need to hunt as well," I told my husband, "your eyes are looking very dark."

He nodded his head, "I'll go when we get back."

"If we ever get back," Rosalie chimed in.

While her complains warranted no success the previous times, this time they succeeded in summoning her other half. Having no knowledge of having kept us waiting, Emmett strolled through the car park with his usual breezy attitude. Bag strung casually across his shoulder and appearing almost human. It was hard not to be slightly jealous of his ease of character.

Most of the time I seemed to appear like one of those old china dolls, too pale and created with a lack of real mortality traits. After seeing Emmett, it was clear I needed to up my game.

He hopped into the driver seat, collecting the keys with a swipe of his hand. "See," he began, "I told you it wouldn't be so bad."

I didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise. Even Rosalie, who seemed to find fault with everything, said not a word.

"Just think how much we can learn in the next two years," he continued.

I didn't think I could survive a week, never mind another two years.

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><p><em>AN: Thank you once again for all your patience and the great reviews. I really hope you all enjoy the chapter and please do leave a review, I'd love you know what you think._


	101. Chapter 100: Human

_A/N: Happy official one hundred chapters! If I haven't said it enough, I'll say it again, thank you all so much for the continuing support. I can't believe we have reached one hundred. __This chapter is split into two, the main story and then there is a little extra tagged on the end. This extra, can almost be seen as a standalone. Like a flashback for you guys, the readers. But Bella still knows nothing. I__t's something I have been contemplating over for a while, bits written here and there. But I finally finished writing it….and decided to add it to another milestone. Hope you enjoy._

_silverhawk88: Thank you very much! It's taken a while but we've finally reached it. _

_trit19: Emmett and school just go hand in hand. He's very laid back, most probably makes friends incredibly easily. Undoubtedly the jock type. The others don't quite have the skills to match Emmett. Thanks for the review. _

_vxgt: Thank you so much. I'm so glad my exams are over, I get my results next week…so that will be an interesting prospect. Hope you enjoy this chapter too!_

_viola1701e: Two years of unneeded school is just painful, while it does make small town living easier… I would hate to have to go back. Especially when you are the same age or older than most of the teachers. As part of the research I read an old home economics textbook from the fifties…it makes for painful reading. The roles of females at the time were so closed. Thanks for reviewing._

_Guest: Ohhh, I can't possibly indulge the plot away. But George will be making a return… so if you read between the lines. But don't worry, she's still none the wiser about her past. So you've not missed anything. Bella does love Edward as much as he loves her; I blame my poor romance writing skills if it's coming off one sided. It's never been my strong point. Thanks for the review, hope you enjoy this one too. _

_Demon: Good to hear you enjoyed! I really liked secondary school… but I'd not go back. Five years was quite enough. And with such modern mentalities, I think we'd all struggle in a fifties school. I'd end up pulling my hair out. Thanks for the review._

_TheVioletContradiction: The maths teacher was actually based on a maths teacher I had at A-level; people used to deliberately distract him so we could waste time. Unfortunately, I had to pretty much learn everything myself when it came to the exams. I love the idea of a student climbing out of a back window, how did the teacher not notice? That' so brilliant. Thanks for the review. _

_jkrowlinggrox: Thank you very much for the review. I'm really glad you liked that part, because it's something that I have considered re-writing many times. The idea is there, but I think it lacks the execution. So having such a positive review is really great and you are far too nice! Writing a character without a past posed a challenge, having to learn to understand other people's emotions, as well as her own. Alongside the friction it created. When I rather naively started this story, I never took into consideration the true psychological issues. It's such a learning curve. Oops, I've gone an rambled again. Thanks for the great review. _

_Lucy-Erza-Hearthfilia: Well, thank you very much, always nice to hear that. Hope you continue to enjoy! _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter One Hundred: Human<span>

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"It's very dark in here," Alice said, clearing the low beam with no trouble at all. "Shouldn't there be a mirror shaft? Or at least electrical lighting."

"Maybe they didn't get around to it," I responded. "But it's terribly musty in here, surely they must have built a ventilation system. They'd have a hard time surviving without oxygen."

She jumped down from the second to last step, surveying the damp and dark bunker with a less than impressed gaze. Without furniture cluttering the room, the shelter was bigger than previously thought, going back quite a way into the side of the grass mound. Although one would hardly call it roomy.

The walls were bare concrete and quite sturdy in nature; but the lack of ventilation and permeable entrance hatch, meant the damp had gotten in. There were sodden patches in the corners, that infiltrated the air with a dank stale smell. Made worse by the growing mould that began to spread because of the humid summer temperature.

"Well, it doesn't look much like the one in the guide. That one was much nicer looking."

"Do you think we need to kit it out?" I questioned, examining the food tins that had been left behind on the single rotting shelf.

"I don't know," she responded, walking around the perimeter of the space. "What would happen if a bomb did drop?"

"Depends where it fell and the type. If you're outside the radius of the nuclear fireball, its fallout that you have to contend with. Something that wouldn't affect us. That's why they build these shelters."

"So there isn't really much point," she summed. "Although, it would be a shame to leave it empty, it would make a really nice den."

"Den?"

"Yeah," she chirped, "we could make it nice, thread the electrical lines through, get some furniture. We could even bring the sewing machine down here, stop Emmett complaining about the noise over the television."

"Yes," I agreed, "that does sound alright. And if we don't tell anyone about it, I can hide down here instead of going to school."

"Better not say that too loudly, we'll have Rosalie hiding out in here as well," she laughed. "But it's only been a week, surely things will start to get better once you've settled in."

"Is that based on a vision?" I questioned slightly desperate. "Please tell me it was a vision. You saw that school becomes tolerable?"

"Sorry, Bella," she smiled guiltily. "No vision, just some reiterated advice from Carlisle. But for what it's worth, I really hope it becomes tolerable."

"I'll take it," I replied. "Advice from Carlisle and well wishes from you, it's much better than simply willing things on my own."

"I do have some vision based news, though," Alice said. "But can we get out of here first? I can almost feel the mould clinging to my clothes."

Minding the hem of her homemade dress, Alice climbed up the steep stone steps, holding open the hatch as I followed on after her. After being in a hole in the ground, outside seemed very bright and fresh. "First thing on the list for the den, ventilation. You can actually smell the spores," she said. "That's definitely not a healthy air space to be in."

"Seconded. I'd be laxed to go down there if I were human… Now tell me," I began, linking my arm through hers - the ideally statured partner, "what vision based news have you bought for me? I'm going to guess it's generally good news, since you haven't told me immediately...also that means it's not something crucially important. Maybe the weather?"

"Well deducted," she phrased, "if not a little obvious. I've had no visions of the weather, so I'm afraid the television report stands in general accuracy."

"Are the...Denali's coming for a visit?"

"Not to my knowledge," she responded, keeping a sly all knowing smile upon her face.

"After finally getting rid of Rosalie and Emmet, I doubt we shall be expected them for a while," I laughed quietly, not wanting to induce Rosalie's wrath. "Put me out of my misery, or this guessing game will become as painful as the time I tried to guess Edward's anniversary present."

"But kudos to him for keeping the car secret for all those months," she responded with a nod.

"He has many... talents," I teased with a nudge of her arm, "however, even though his craftiness drove me mad, I was incredibly impressed and ultimately delighted with the Bugatti. But enough about Edward's ability to outsmart me... I want to hear this news."

"I feel this will be a terrible anti-climax," she said, "but strangely I had a vision of your parcel arriving."

"Parcel?" I queried.

"Yep," she continued, "quite a large one too."

"That is strange," I pondered, wracking my mind for recent transactions. "The last thing I ordered were leather gloves for Esme, but those came last week. I've requested nothing since and have nothing pending."

"Oh," Alice responded a little taken back, "I saw it arriving by courier, next Tuesday. But I didn't see anyone's reaction."

"Are you positive it was for me?"

"Completely, I saw the mailing address," she said confidently. "I would have told you sooner, but I thought you were waiting on something."

"Don't worry," I said, waving away any concern, "mystery mail has happened before, on occasion I have had random samples and prototypes sent. I think they like to keep me sweet, make sure I keep investing in things. But nonetheless, I will excitedly wait for my package, fingers crossed for an integrated circuit board."

"Is that what Jasper was reading about? He religiously read through a huge manual some company sent him... I was almost vibrating from the excitement radiating off him. If they do send you the circuit board, he may well explode," she giggled.

"Well, let's not get his hopes up," I said, "sounds like we'd all be feeling the disappointment."

"You're right," she acknowledged, her arm becoming more of a leading force as she took charge of our amble to guide us towards the wooden slatted bench near the back door. Both of us sitting near the edge, so to avoid the awkward leg swing that would undoubtedly occur.

Instead of the nonsensical swaying of limbs, Alice seemed content to twist the cap of her shoe against the gravel path, repetitively crunching the little stones together. "I've been thinking," she began rather slowly, "well actually it was something Edward mentioned in passing that got me thinking."

"Oh?" I vocalised.

"He mentioned you and he had practised your control on samples."

"Yeah...human blood samples from the hospital," I recalled. "A really very crude experiment to test tolerance. It usually ended with one of us bolting out of the house, while Carlisle burnt the remnants. But I'll not knock it completely; it probably did help with exposure... eventually."

She nodded thoughtfully, hot tonged curls bouncing slightly as she did. "I don't like speaking on behalf of Jasper," she uttered, "but... he seemed stuck between wanting to test his control and a fear of slipping again. Encouraging words are all well and good, but I think he needs a little push."

"You think using blood samples could work?" I wondered, fingering the flaking green paint beneath my fingertips.

She shrugged, shoulders and all. "No idea. But it's something new to try. I just think he needs a little push. The risk is as minimal as possible, and it will give him something to strive for."

"I think you should talk to Carlisle about it," I encouraged. "He'll be able to discuss plausibility; I don't know how easy it is to acquire blood."

Her response was interrupted as the back door swung open, the handle caught just before it busted against its hinges. "That was close," Emmett said with a grin, "almost splintered another one."

"Are you keeping a tally?" Alice said.

"Should do," he said, "alongside the number of bug screens I've put my hand through. But my carpentry skills have gotten better, fixed most of the damage to the doors."

"We all expect great things from your woodworking class," I quipped.

"You betcha," came the jovial response, "building a shelf: easy. Mine will be the best looking shelf you've ever seen."

"I'll hold you to that," I said.

"Sure, sure," he waved away the response. "But did you go all the way to the bottom of the bunker this time, now that the bad smell is gone?"

"Oh, the bad smell is still there," Alice informed him, "airing it out really didn't help. But we went down anyway."

"Pretty weird, right?" Emmett said, leaning against the brick wall. "Whoever built that, essentially built a death trap, no ventilation for fresh air, and black mould on the walls. If the nuclear explosion didn't get them first, that bunker would have."

"How lovely," I mused, "having a killer bunker in the garden. Full of toxic mould. Perhaps I shouldn't mention that to my Home Ec' teacher, I can't see her taking it very well."

"Did you tell her about the dead frogs?" Emmett questioned with a dimpled grin.

"Funnily enough, no," I replied, "she struggled to grasp the concept of my motherless situation. Dead frogs may turn out to be the final nail in the coffin."

"I'd like to see her response," Emmett said. "She seems highly strung. Always yelling at people in the hallway. Those _ruffian boys._" He mocked her pitched voice perfectly. "_No consideration for anyone but themselves_."

"Ooh, school sounds like fun," Alice declared, slightly bouncing in her seat. "I'm impatient to go. You all come back with such great stories."

"Those aren't stories, those are complaints," I corrected. "Am I not telling them right? Is my displeasure not coming across strongly enough?"

"You and Jasper will enjoy it," Emmett declared, "Bella just needs to give school a chance, she'll enjoy it eventually."

"Will not," I muttered defiantly, sticking out my tongue. "I'll become a delinquent." Bypassing him on the way into the house and shutting the door as he yelled his response, careful to mind the recently fixed door hinge. He had done a pretty good job fixing it.

Knowing Carlisle had cleaned the floor, only this morning and would not appreciate muddy footprints trekked across the tiles, I removed my rubber boots in the laundry room. Running hot water in the big sink, before chucking them in with some soap shavings. I couldn't imagine people would be too impressed with black mould within the house.

But then with such a clean and smooth floor before me, the enticement to slide was just too great, with a slight run from the utility; I slid the length of the kitchen in my socks.

Yet the initial fun was halted by the plush carpet in the hallway, and Rosalie's sudden appearance. "Edward wants to know if you're going to come do your income tax?" she questioned, choosing to ignore my epic slide along the floor. "And also, have you seen Emmett? He was supposed to be helping me do ours."

"Emmett's outside," I said, gesturing in the general direction. "Probably hiding in the bunker…I wish I had hidden in the bunker…taxes come around too quickly."

"The sooner we do it, the sooner I don't have to think about it for another year," she said decisively, bypassing me in her mission to find her wayward husband. Choosing not to slide across the kitchen floor.

I found the remaining members of the family holed up in the dining room, surrounded by hordes of papers and folders. The large farmhouse table was covered in stacks and piles; each person sitting around it had a small gap enabling them to write.

I had never seen Jasper quite so intense, scrutinising his numbers with narrowed eyes and a brow scrunched in concentration. While Esme had turned sideways in her seat, her legs draped with a seemingly never ending list of figures. Even Carlisle seemed to have a slight frown on his face.

"I've come to lend a hand," I said to Edward, "you look troubled."

"Not troubled, just confused," he responded, moving the pile of papers from the chair next to him and allowing me to sit down.

"Is it our sporadic account changes that are causing the issue?"

"Something like that…" he said vaguely, getting distracted by something in his hand. "Trying to calculate our income…is turning out to be near impossible."

"You'd think, having done this so many times, we'd be proficient by now," Carlisle chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief at the piles before him.

"We have the same conversation every year," Edward said, never taking his eyes off the paper in front of him. "We always say we'll sort it as we go along, and every year we don't."

"I started keeping track the beginning of the tax year… but it's so tedious I gave up." I said.

"Even if we plan, I bet we'll end up in this same position next year," declared Esme. "We should just have an annual tax day and be done with it." Thusly, annual tax day was ceremoniously dubbed a thing. Easily becoming the most despised day of the year.

"You haven't purchased anything in my name recently, have you?" I questioned Edward, diligently handing him the next statement he required.

"Not to my knowledge," came his distracted response. "Why?"

"Just checking. Alice said she had a vision of a package arriving for me… but I haven't ordered anything."

"It's not another _care package _from Tanya, is it?" Edward queried, rolling his eyes at the thought of the slightly strange items Tanya and I sent to one another.

"No, I don't think she would send one so soon after my birthday," I replied.

"I've always meant to ask about these...care packages?" Jasper queried. "They come at irregular intervals throughout the year. But don't normally contain items that you'd usually use to care for yourself."

"Care packages is probably the wrong term," I summed. "Although I do tend to send her more rational gifts. Items she likes, but can't get in the wilderness of Denali. In return, she sends me-"

"Irrational gifts," Edward interrupted.

"What happened to that skull she sent?" Carlisle questioned, leaning back in his chair to momentarily disregard responsibilities.

"Which one?" Edward queried. "There have been two."

"The one that ended up in my office," he clarified. "I was quite fond of it, ideal size to hold my pens and pencils."

"The deer skull," I answered, "it's still in the unpacked boxes in the basement. Edward said we couldn't have it in our room. He said it was creepy." Biting the inside of my lips in an effort to hide my gibe.

"I said one skull was quite enough," he corrected, gifting me with a terribly mild frown that did nothing to scorn, but only succeeded in encouraging my roguish behaviour. "We already have a human skull in our room."

"It's made out of wood," I corrected.

"Another gift from Tanya?" Jasper questioned.

"No, that one came from the house in Toledo. The person whom previously owned the house, had it on a little table by the front door. You can remove a section of the skull, on top. I think they used it as a key dish. I use it to keep my hair pins."

"How novel," Carlisle replied.

Eventually, the inevitable call of unfinished work stalled the idle chatter. Everyone ended up in the dining room, either sat around the table or on the floor. Hopelessly sorting through nearly twelve months' worth of financial documents. Trying to hopelessly calculate individual values which could then be collected together for the overall household. Regardless of our speed to calculate things, the issue came in trying to first identify those figures from the mountains of paper. Speed only seemed to complicate the situation; stacks got knocked over, things went missing, people got frustrated. Human pace was the ideal option.

It was sometimes alarming just how human orientated we were becoming, following human laws, attending human schools, doing human things. There were chunks of time where one forgot about all the differences, usually occurring during mundane tasks…much like doing tax returns.

I wondered if this was what being human was actually like.

Regardless of lifespan, strength, and all those other factors that differentiated vampires from humans, maybe we were more alike. Having no recollection of being a mortal, I had always considered my behaviour as being completely vampiric in nature. But maybe I was more like my human self than I had previously considered. When forced to do human things, perhaps we would go about them in the same manner.

Strangely, if I ever did find out about my past – however implausible that was – maybe we would have more in common that previously thought.

But hypotheses aside, I still hated annual tax day.

* * *

><p><span>Part 2: Horace <span>

April 1912, Halifax, Nova Scotia

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He never bothered himself with human business, never ventured too close to towns or cities unless a hunt required it, or the rare occasion he was being summoned by his _lucrative associates_. And even then he made sure to take care, never linger too long, do his deeds and then depart back to the safety of rural lands.

The City of Halifax had never held much interest, just a convenient meeting place to intercept communication from his new found friends across the pond. He had planned to hunt in the city, before returning to the band of misfits he had coerced into joining him.

But even he could not help but hear the news upon the streets, the tales of woe that people spoke. He stole a newspaper from the deep pockets of his last victim – leaving the body to rot in the Long Lake – taking in the news that had upset the human population of the city.

The newspapers declared there had been a _catastrophic loss of life, the worst maritime disaster to date_…. and Halifax, Nova Scotia was at the very centre of it. It went on to describe the sinking of an apparently unsinkable ship; a feat of human engineering, unrivalled in size or luxury by anything else afloat.

The victims – surviving and deceased, had been ferried from boats onto the dockland throughout the day. Surviving persons had been put up in hotels and inns across the city; but there were offers of spare rooms from a whole tirade of people.

_It was all so quaint_, he thought. So very human and fanciful. To rally around one another in times of hardship, grouping together to survive. But that was to be expected of prey.

He never bothered himself with human business, but that was not to say he wasn't impervious to curiosity. After all, this would make a mighty fine tale to tell, and conversation was something he found severely lacking within his band of followers.

From the Long Lake, he walked in a north easterly direction, following the breeze that bought the bountiful scent of shipyards. The salty air tainted with the thick and unmistakable scent of coal and oil. The streets were deserted of people, but with the early hours of the morn upon the city, there was nothing unusual about the lack of mortals. He moved through the streets with ease, free to go how he liked without having to sulk or hide. Arrogantly walking along the sidewalks with the prowess of predator.

He found his way with ease, unfazed by the layout of this particular area of the city. The intricacies of building types, road names, and topography almost guided him straight towards his destination.

But before he managed to reach the dockland, something else caught his interest.

From the corner of the opposite street, with his back against the building keystone in a casual stance, he stopped to view several large black funeral coaches stationary in the road. He was no stranger to the sight of a funeral hearse, but all those he had bore witness too, were dressed with ornate garlands, and polished glass sides to allow those along the route to view the coffin.

These, however, could not have been more different. The black wood of each hearse seemed to meld into the shadows, the cargo inside concealed behind dark drapes and there was not a flower in sight.

He watched for some time. The ongoing, repetitive motion of the mortal beings. Watching as the same heavy set men unloaded cargo from each carriage, their breath and that of the horses, rose into the frigid air. Revealing just how cold the weather was.

Even with the dim light provided by the gas lamps, the morbid freight was easy to identify. Each coffin was unloaded with bazaar efficiency. Being carried into the adjacent building, before the same four men returned to collect another. They laboured until all cargo had been removed.

"That's the last of tonights," said the hearse driver to the haulers, "lock the rink and go get some sleep. They want you back here again first light."

"More bodies?" questioned one of the men.

"I expect so," replied the driver, "Mackay-Bennett's already refuelled, heading off towards the wreckage site, should be there by daybreak. But from the talk on the docks, they're sending another steamer out to join the recovery."

"How many more victims?" queried another of the haulers. "We've already filled over three quarters of the rink."

The driver shrugged, "hard to say. But I've read that there were two thousand on that ship, and word has it…only five hundred have made land alive."

"Lord Almighty," came the response, two of the men removing their caps, "that many."

"Aye," said the driver, "go home get what little rest you can. Coroner will be over tomorrow, bodies will need tending to. No doubt I'll be seeing you all in the morning. G'night."

With a click of the reins and a command to the horse pair, the final hearse disappeared into the darkened streets, and sometime after the four haulers departed in their separate directions.

He dawdled out from his hiding spot, one hand in his trouser pocket, the other looped on the remnants of the other. Ambling onto the road and across the paved street to the other side. Without any consideration or care he shunted the lock thrice with the ball of his hand, gaining entrance as the lock snapped cleanly in the mechanism.

Even with his impenetrable skin, there was a significant temperature drop within the building, getting colder as he descended from the lobby towards the ice rink.

His morbid curiosity was fuelled with the view through the spectator's gallery; row upon row of caskets. Each timber coffin was identical in construction, nothing lavish or grand, just basic wooden boxes lined side by side on the ice rink. There was a gap between each row, just big enough to walk along, allowing the humans to look upon the bodies. Maybe relatives would make an identification attempt.

He pressed his fingers against the glass, trying to sustain the macabre excitement that always ignited within himself when death came to the forefront. Counting each box, memorising the view. But it wasn't enough, he wanted to know what kind of human lay within each identical catafalque. To look upon their faces.

The dead had always been fascinating, even as a child, he had been delightfully terrified by the sallow faces, watching on as his father tended bodies on marble slabs.

With agile feet, he descended another flight of stairs, bringing him level with the ice. There - with no pause in his steps, he came across the successions. All one hundred and three of them, neatly lined on the curling ice. Eerily illuminated by the moon's light upon the frozen water.

But the thrill of the situation abruptly retracted in one fell swoop.

Retracting at the demands of his survival instincts, he jumped back from the ice and crushed himself flush against the wall. Hiding in the shadows. He did not move. But listened for the noise that had disturbed his pleasure, straining to hear what he thought had been the cause.

The noise thumped sluggishly again. Pulsating in a slow but repetitive beat. There were long moments between each palpation, like each one struggled to go on.

His eyes roamed across the rink, skirting around the perimeter in search of the mortal who belonged to those terribly laboured heart beats. Teeth bared, venom pooling, and ready to strike anything that came across his path.

Nothing did. There was no sign of any mortal being within the building, no footsteps, or sounds of movement. Other than the ongoing pulsation, there was nothing.

A strange notion, then came to the forefront of his mind, a wonderfully obscure thought that gained evidence as the seconds rolled by. He pushed himself from the wall, one foot stepping onto the slippery surface, never hindered by the polished ice. With a poised stance and engaged senses, he slid down the narrow rows, searching for that lucrative coffin.

His enhanced hearing strained to differentiate the exact location, but guided him ever closer to the noise. Promising him something abnormally singular, something profoundly grotesque.

Upon coming across the casket there was no pause for contemplation, his hands gripped the narrow wooden sides, pulling with a feeble might and sliding the box into the walkway. Now away from the masses of others, the palpations were clearly identifiable. He squatted in his shabby boots, running his fingers around the edge of the casket lid.

With the sheer strength in his fingers, he pried off the top, iron nails squeaking as they came loose. The lid was discarded away with a flick of his wrist.

It was not what he had been expecting.

Almost lost within a thick, matted, dank fur coat, was a small young woman.

He had first mistaken her for a child. So dainty was she, that the extra space around her body had been packed with ice chippings. But her pleasing figure had pushed her age upwards, _no more than twenty_, he decided.

Her clothing was surprisingly well preserved; one shoe missing, a rip here and there, but mostly intact. _Expensive_, came to mind. The cut, the fabric, even he - with such limited knowledge- could identify such traits. Further emphasised by the ornate, gaudy ring upon her finger.

But her face was a prize. She was pretty for a human. Her features were small, nothing handsome or bold, just pretty. Even with such a bluish pallor to her skin. He had expected to see something grimmer, watery deaths always gifted horrific sights. But she was almost undamaged.

His fingers traced the line of her throat, pressing inwards against the cold skin for that final confirmation of life. While tired and sluggish, the barely detectable pulses continued.

_How ironic it would be for her to live_, he thought. And such a pretty girl, would undoubtedly make a stunning vampire.

Never one to backtrack on such an appealing idea, it was all too easy to sink his teeth into her neck.

* * *

><p><em>AN: So I hope it has been clear enough, but if not I will explain. The secondary part of this chapter is from Horace's point of view (Bella's creator.) And basically outlines the lead up to her change. This is a stand alone mini chapter. Almost like a flashback. __**Bella still knows nothing about her pas**__**t**__. I know sometimes my random 'time warp' have a tendency to confuse people. So I hope this clears things up._

_When I started this story, I didn't actually envision how this would work. And pretty much wrote myself into a corner, after doing quite a bit of research. I finally decided on a route that seemed the most realistic. _

_Thanks so much for reading. Please review and let me know what you think. _


	102. Chapter 101: Storms

_A/N: Hey, lovelies. Thanks for the feedback, alerts, and favourites from the previous chapter. Hope you enjoy this one too. _

_vxgt: Bingo, surviving in the water for that long - impossible. However, managing to haul yourself onto debris and out of the freezing Atlantic water... ever so slightly more chance of survival (add in a thick outer layer...like a fur coat, and the chances are improved again.) I really had to write myself out of the corner on this particular plot point. Thanks for the review, always nice to hear such nice feedback. _

_FairyDemonDust: Great pen-name! Thank you very much; I really enjoy writing about her past. _

_viola1701e: I'm not entirely sure what you mean? Sorry. I'm being presumptuous and guessing you mean Bella's past? Just to reiterate (I did go back and put notes in the foreword, but you might have already read the chapter by that point) Bella still doesn't know about her past. The second part of the chapter was just a bit of background info; sorry if that has confused anyone. _

_A Bonny Mouse: Oh my goodness a few days? I'm slightly lost for words… but thanks for taking the time to read this slightly… ridiculously long story. Ah, University hunting…what can I say, London is expensive there are no two ways about it. In order for me to study in London I had to find a part time job and work full time during the holidays. But despite this… I love London so much. I've even decided to stay in the city and do my Master's degree. As for budgeting, I kept records of everything I spent. And tried to keep to a weekly budget. Oh, and keep an eye out for bursaries and scholarships. _

_Ramble over. Thank you so much for your great comments about the story, I really needed a little bit of encouragement. I completely agree about the vampire society thing, it's the most fascinating part of the Twilight books. Like a whole subculture we don't really get to see. Love the idea about the swinging sixties… that would be really fun to write. Thanks once again for the review, good luck with the Uni hunting. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the right to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter One Hundred and One: Storms<span>

Tuesday, 15th September 1959

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Beneath the soles of my shoes the fallen leaves crunched noisily, crackling into the sodden earth as I pressed down upon them. Those that had just managed to avoid my frantic footfalls were gusted into the air in plumes, scattering in every direction as I ran past. Knowing my stealth was being ruined by the violent sowing of leaves, a sudden decision and tensing of muscles, flung my body haphazardly off the natural path and into the undergrowth. Finding my balance before continuing to run away.

The wind blew coldly against my side, more with me than against, and giving me the slight advantage I needed. But I couldn't continue along the same route, I didn't possess the speed to flourish that way. Relying on sheer speed would accomplish nothing. So I was forced to change direction again, wind against me, running down a steep decline. Hoping a little tactical move would aid my game.

I couldn't hear anyone. But that was neither good nor bad. Just the ongoing chirping of the birds and rustling of the wind in the trees.

The momentum of my run down the decline was enough to send me clean over the water gorge below. Avoiding the precariously sandy overhang and a fall that would end in a deluge. But the other side was fraught with a near collision, as Alice and I both tried to occupy the same space. Managing to avoid each other at the last moment.

With a lack of _tagging_, I summed she was not currently _it_.

"Bella," she greeted rather excitedly.

"Alice," I responded, trying to match her enthusiasm.

"Edward's_ it_," she sang, "you should probably run." And with that she was gone, running off in her sprightly manner into the forest and quickly out of sight.

I did not need to be told twice. Running forward in a direction I hope would not lead me anywhere near him. Through the trees, foliage, and vegetation, I weaved my way in a multitude of directions. Trying to keep my damage to a minimum, trying not to be caught, _because he'd gloat about it for ages._

I liked winning. I was not above using underhand tactics. I would even harness my size and hide in a small space if that was what it took.

But for the moment there seemed to be a lack of good hiding places, so manically running around the forest seemed to be my best bet. I ended up following Emmett's trails for a while, stepping into his much larger footfalls in the hope of concealing my tracks. Unfortunately, his footsteps came to a very sudden stop, disappearing completely from the wet forest floor. I could only presume he had taken to the trees.

I contemplated it.

Tactically it would make sense, no one would suspect me of doing it, and if I succeeded I would get a prime view. Beat Edward in this game.

I decided I might as well try.

There were some low lying branches that looked like they would support my weight, much too high to reach, but within jumping distance. The leap upwards was not one of skill, but more of blind faith. And while I did manage to reach the first branch, it was only with one hand. Leaving me hanging carelessly from the tree.

I was delighted to have no spectators - _I'd never live it down._

Quick as to keep my dignity, I pulled myself upwards into the low branch. Then, successfully managed to climb my way upwards. I edged along the thicker branch, going along until it grew too spindly to support my weight.

Emmett had always made it look easy, jumping from tree to tree, never hindered by the great distance. Using his long, muscular forearms to grab for the next branch.

I, however, did not possess long, muscular forearms.

But surely I was more agile than Emmett.

I didn't have time to test this theory, because the sound of running footsteps suddenly became audible. Two sets running in my direction. Following the same tracks that I had been attempting to use to conceal my own. From their voices, I easily identified Edward and Jasper, discussing their plot to get revenge on Emmett for something grievous he had done to them both.

They would undoubtedly look upwards, and there I'd be, awkwardly shuffling along a branch.

Without really thinking, or considering logistics, I jumped across the gap, managing to swinging myself upwards and continuing running along anything that would support me. It was a much easier feat where the trees were densely packed, instead of great gaps; I merely needed to watch my step. My skill wasn't quite on the same level as Emmett - he could actually swing from tree to tree, much like a monkey. But leaping and running seemed to be working in my favour.

"Bella," a voice suddenly whispered.

I almost fell from the tree, only staying upright as I dug my nails into the bark of the trunk, bracing myself with a violent shudder.

"I always knew you'd take to the trees," Emmett whispered. Low and behold, there he was, hiding in the tree directly to my left.

"What are you doing?" I hissed.

"Hiding," He said.

"You scared me half to death," I whispered, relaxing my grip as the bark beneath my fingers began to crumble. "And whatever you did to Jasper and Edward, has backfired, because they've teamed up."

"Aw shits," he mumbled, "they can't do that. You can't have two people _tagged._ That's not the rules."

"Why don't you go down and tell them?" I said, gesturing to the twenty foot drop between us and the forest floor. "I'm sure they'll reconsider."

"Very funny, Bella."

"Well, I'm having the last laugh," I declared edging along the branch before me. "They're looking for you first, and you've become awfully predictable. Taking to the trees so often."

Without falling the aforementioned twenty feet, I managed to step across the narrow gap between branches, before climbing upwards to find an ideal route to the next. "Best start...running. They're not far behind."

"If I'm tagged," he said as he began to move, "I'm coming after you first."

"Likewise," I stated over my shoulder.

We lost each other amongst the canopy tops, he off in one direction, I in another. Luckily for both of us, the majority of the leaves remained on the trees, yet to fall due to the uncommonly warm September weather. So hiding from those at ground level was just about possible.

Rather quickly I found a rhythm that seemed to work quite well, while never skilful or graceful, it worked to boost my brashness and turn it into an almost arrogant ease.

But over confidence and self-assured success were never a good combination. Neither was pacing all one's weight upon a clearly decaying tree limb.

It snapped with an almighty crack, cutting through the air like a gunshot. Before both it and I fell back towards the forest floor. The branch met a sad demise, shattering into several pieces as it hit the ground, bits rolling down the green verge to one side. Luckily, my fate was not so tragic, as I landed upright and managed to avoid falling down the slope.

My stint in the trees had ended much like I had presumed it would.

Now on the ground and having given away my exact location, I bolted away in a maniacal dash. Mouthing a tirade of curses as I went. Blustering through the shrubs without real care, splattering of muddy water undoubtedly up my shirt. The high ponytail - which had served well for my hunt- was now coming undone, causing strands of my hair to get caught on all manner of passing thorns.

Unfortunately, no matter how fast I ran, I could not out run Edward through such a sparse area of evergreen forest. I just didn't possess the skill, or the leg length needed to win this.

I could hear him gaining ground, following the exact route I had paved without any issue. His determination was almost tangible in his pace. Regardless of how hard I pushed my legs to keep running fast, he continued to narrow the distance between us. Until he ran mere paces behind.

"You may as well give up," he taunted from right behind me, his fingers just about touching the skin on the back of my arm.

"Get lost," I said, keeping my arms clear of his grabbing hands.

Without warning, he was suddenly running at my side, careering inwards onto my path. I tried to stop dead, but regardless of the sudden halt, we collided. Tumbling to the ground in a ridiculous mass of limbs. Until we settled in a heap, with me sprawled across him.

"You're _it_," he laughed, tapping me on the head to further prove his point.

"No, I'm not," I argued, trying to fruitlessly tussle his hair as he gripped both my wrists with his stupidly big hands. "You caught Jasper before me."

"Actually, Jasper surrendered and we teamed up," he told me factually.

"You can't do that," I protested, "there's no such thing as surrendering in _tag_. Jasper still loses, he's just trying to be smart about it."

"Are you being a sore loser, Isabella?"

I managed to free a hand and set about unreservedly pinching his cheek, while he attempted to move away. But his endeavors were ultimately unsuccessful, as I was currently straddling him. "You take that back," I said.

"Or what?" he mumbled, speech impaired by my incessant pulling on his cheek. "What's the threat?"

"You are very brave to bargain," I told him, trying to wipe the hair from my face with my shoulder. "Seeing as I have the upper hand...body... I'm basically on top of you."

"That you are," he agreed with a sly smile. "But we both know how quickly that can change." As if to further prove his point, I was jostled from my upper hand position and thusly found myself underneath.

"You have far too much skill when it comes to doing that," I told him, though the supposed scold was more praising than anything.

"But what are you going to do now, without the ability to threaten me?" he said, hovering over me in an apparent attempt to intimidate.

"I'll tell you where Emmett is?" I tried.

"Are you trying to bargain with me? Because that's very brave of you, seeing as I have the upper hand." He said, moving his face ever closer to mine.

"I'll… help you find Emmett?" I tried again, giving him a wide smile in the hopes of adding conviction to my bargain.

He pretended to think it over, "No, I don't need that. Jasper's already gone to find him. And I thought teaming up was against the rules."

"Take what I can," I shrugged awkwardly, reiterating a phrase I had heard Emmett using on more than one occasion. Uttering it when no other answer would suffice, even if it didn't quite make sense.

"And if that doesn't work?" he questioned.

"Well, I'd try and flirt my way out of this situation," I said, giving him a chaste kiss, "but the damp is currently seeping into my pants. So it's hardly the most romantic of situations... I'd really quite like to get up before the bugs start nesting in my hair, please."

Before doing as I requested, he instigated – and I did quite keenly reciprocate – a kiss that was a little less conservative than the last. But eventually the damp seeping into my clothes became a more pressing matter; he aided me to stand and helped me remove the leaf litter that had become ensnared in my hair, checking there weren't any insects on me. All the things I required of a husband.

"All good?" I questioned, shaking out my hair to dislodge anything untoward that may be hiding out of sight.

"All good," he confirmed. "Can I ask about the sudden bout of high maintenance?"

"I'd rather not go to school looking like a ragamuffin, with leaves and bugs in my hair," I stated, leaning against him as he haphazardly draped his arm around my shoulder. "I don't think I have time to wash and dry my hair before school."

"I could always help you wash your hair," he bartered, as we began a slow paced walk back towards the general direction of the house.

"While I appreciate the help," I said, clutching the back of his jacket within my fingers, "somehow I don't think it would be any quicker."

"Questioning my ability to behave?"

"Only slightly," I declared.

It did not take long to locate the others, far quicker than we had anticipated. Mostly due to the momentous sound produced by a felled tree, followed by the unsettle squawking of the birds, whom had been displayed by the heavy-handedness.

Running towards the clear indication of upset, it was not long before we came across Emmett and Jasper engaged in some kind of skirmish.

"You're _it_," Jasper laughed, easily dodging Emmett's efforts to tag him back. "No backsies."

"You cheated," Emmett whined, trying once again to swipe at Jasper. Failing entirely, as Jasper eluded his grasp.

The commotion of the tussle between Emmett and Jasper, enticed the appearance of Alice and Rosalie from the wilderness. While Rosalie attempted to look relatively calm and collected, the leaves stuck within her hair and the spots of mud on her face, told of her own desperation to win this childish game.

"Are we done now?" she questioned, simply choosing to ignore Emmett's complaints. "I guess seeing as everyone is here, that means I've won."

"Technically, both you and Alice have won," Edward said, "she didn't get tagged either."

"Technically, we've all won, because Edward cheated," I said. "There is no teaming up in tag."

"Even so," Edward began, jostling his arm around my shoulder, "you certainly didn't win. I caught you, fair and square."

"Ooh, fighting talk from Edward," Emmett provoked, having given up trying to make a grab for Jasper. "You going to let that slide, Bella?"

"It's fine," I said. "I'll just get him next time. If we're not playing by the rules, I can basically do whatever I want."

"And Bella returns the fighting talk, with another thinly veiled threat," Emmett reported, evading Rosalie's attempts to silence his provoking banter. Much to her chagrin.

"I hate to interrupt this bout of fighting talk," Jasper said. "But it's almost six o'clock… at least I think it is. Emmett's attempts at grappling have only succeeded in smashing my watch," – he tapped the cracked glass with his finger – "but it looks like nautical twilight. So I'd say it's around five forty five."

"I'll take your word for it, Jasper," Emmett said, clapping him on the back with an unneeded amount of force. "Some of the words that come out of your mouth make little sense to me."

"Just some?" Jasper replied audaciously, bolting away before Emmett could respond.

"Ooh, fighting talk from Jasper," I provoked. "You going to take that, Em?"

Having had his pride slightly bashed, Emmett hastily followed after him, his curses still audible long after we lost sight of him. Leaving the rest of us to follow after them, hoping there would not be too much damage on the other end.

* * *

><p>I watched as he brushed the chalk dust off the lapel of his dark woollen suit; seemingly unbothered by the copious clouds of white particles that flew around his person. A halt to his breathing a sure sign he was proficient when it came to the issue of cleaning board erasers. "I suppose, I expected too much from this little test," Mr Henke began, his hand flitting over the stack of marked papers on his desk, "perhaps such a long summer vacation really has turned the majority of you dumb."<p>

The humans shifted uncomfortably in their seats, hearts racing with nerves at the assignment papers. Some tried to avoid making eye contact with the teacher, already anticipating their grade.

"Maybe it was too soon for a test?" he mused with a sardonic tone. "Maybe I'm just too harsh?"

His fingers pulled back the corner of the pile, flicking through each individual one. The humorously mournful look upon his face hid his annoyance. "I am abashed to tell you, that only four people in this class – that's four out of nineteen – received top marks. While the rest of you caused me such utter pain, I'm sure you will see my tear marks on your tests."

"I swear we need to write these comments down," I whispered to Rosalie. "I don't think I've ever met a more sarcastic person. And I'm married to Edward."

"These comments are getting me through school," she agreed. "It's so entertaining to see the humans squirm."

"So," Mr Henke declared loudly, looping his thumbs in his braces, "without further ado, I'll hand back your homework. They are in seating order and not percentage… wouldn't want you to get _embarrassed_ about your marks."

He thusly dished out the papers, making little comments as he did so:

"I think a little more study is required, Miss Mayfield."

"You could do with going back over your notes, Mr Rankin."

"Mr O'Connell, I'm surprised the ink hasn't run. The sheer amount of tears I shed. Let's make an attempt to study next time."

I wondered how Edward and Emmett survived the school day without the sarcastic comments of Mr Henke, three doses of US History a week was not enough. I'd happily trade both home economics and health class, for more history.

"Ah, Miss Cullen, Miss Hale," he greeted reaching our desks, "I'll be quite honest and say I didn't expect very much from the pair of you. Having only just joined us. But, how pleasantly surprised I was." He handed us our papers, gifting Rosalie with a ninety seven and I with a ninety eight percent. "Good, clear, concise answers. A little work on content and next time I should be expecting one hundred from you both. Let's hope your example will rub off on the rest of the class,"- he slightly raised his voice - "or your peers will be attending those gas pumps."

As soon as he was out of range, Rosalie all but grabbed my quiz, reading with narrowed eyes. "How did you get one more percent than me?" she questioned. "We did it together, wrote basically the same thing."

"Guess I just have a superior writing style," I replied arrogantly.

"No… that's definitely not it… you got an extra mark for mentioning the battle of Perryville, that wasn't even part of the question," she muttered.

"That's the only extra bit I put in, the rest is exactly from the textbook," I said. "Maybe that's how you win at school, just copy from the text book and add in some relatable background facts."

"But that's completely stupid," she reiterated. "If they want students to write about certain topics, why aren't they in the question?"

"Are you really questioning human logic?" I said. "Because that's a dangerous road to go down."

She made no additional comment, just threw my assignment back to me with a flick of her wrists. But I was sure – somehow - this had become slightly competitive. I'd undoubtedly be seeing a hundred percent on all Rosalie's upcoming tests.

The rest of the hour was spent learning about the Battle of Fort Sumter, complete with a multitude of mordant remarks when rather foolish answers were given, and a little drama when a boy in the back row lent a little too far in his chair and almost fell out – much amusement was found at his expense. But much to my chagrin, the bell rang, signalling lunch time.

After practically throwing my notebook and pens into my bag, I was quickly ushered from the room by Rosalie. Keen to apparently avoid the crowds that were sure to descend upon the corridors within minutes. We weaved our way through the small groups of people, proficient at ignoring the stares that always accompanied our movement around the school, pretending to be ignorant to the hearsay.

But there was one thing we struggled to ignore - the repugnant smell of cooked food. It drifted down the corridor with an almost thick quality, dispersing through the air and masking everything else. The type of scent that clung to clothes and hair; something akin to the smell of rotting flesh. Only getting infinitely worse when entering the cafeteria.

The floor squeaked horribly under my saddle shoes, the cheap glazed titles cracked in a multitude of places where the humans had been heavy footed. The lunchroom was a large hollow building that resembled a warehouse in both depth and height. With a multitude of identical wooden seats around rectangular pine tables. Each one seating six persons.

We gave the lunch line a wide birth, instead made a bee-line for the table that Emmett had decided to occupy. While Rosalie took the seat next to Emmett, I chose the one across the table. Hooking my satchel on the chair spindles, before depositing myself down.

"What's cooking?" Emmett greeted with a grin.

"Really?" I said, shaking my head. "How long have you been waiting to use that one?"

He shrugged his shoulders, giving me a completely innocent look. "No idea what you mean, Bella." Clacking together the salt and pepper shakers in the centre of the table, before he began spinning the one on its rim.

I fished my lunch from my bag, opening up the paper bag and displaying the food items alongside Emmett's and Rosalie's. The slightly chaotic table of food and half empty water bottles, adhered well with every other table in the room. To glance over it would display nothing out of the ordinary. And with our huddled seating arrangement, no one could really view our eating habits – or lack of.

While some still looked our way, the majority had already become accustomed to seeing us about the school. The humans seemed to have a fickle attention span; the initial peculiarities we presented had begun to become somewhat normal. Or at least they had grown used to seeing us on a regular basis.

"Where the heck have you been?" came Emmett's polite welcome, as Edward took the seat next to me. "Your food is getting cold and we've had to staunchly defend your seat from a horde of people."

"I'm only a couple minutes late," Edward replied, gifting Emmett with a strange look. "Only because Mr Downer was substituting for our other teacher-"

"A whole extra hour of Mr Downer, aren't you _lucky_," I commented, twisting my apple by its stalk.

"His thought processes are hard to keep up with," Edward said. "So easily distracted by everything. We were late out of class because he became preoccupied with watching the storm clouds."

"Yeah, but have you seen those clouds?" Emmett remarked. "Looks like it's going to be a good one… the type that storm that guarantees some sports. I'm thinking we have ourselves a game of baseball."

"We always play baseball," Rosalie complained, running her finger around the top of her water bottle.

"Well, we could have played cricket, but someone…" - I pointedly looked at Edward - "broke the stumps."

"I was just playing the game," he defended, "trying to dislodge the wickets. It's not my fault the stumps were so feeble."

"Then how about football?" Emmett suggested.

"No way," Rosalie vetoed directly, "last time we played that with the Denali's, it turned into a giant wrestling match. I'm not playing a contact sport with you, Emmett."

He placed his hands over the spinning shakers, stopping them dead. "You're killing the fun, Rosie. Killing the fun."

We listed a number of other sports, but the majority were rejected due to an affinity of contact between players… which usually ended poorly when we played as a family. But soccer was placed forwards as a possible solution, as long as we abided by the rules of tackling and not actually try to deliberately trip one another. Although, this too seemed highly unlikely.

The weather that had begun the whole conversation, made itself known halfway through the lunch hour. Starting with short rumbles of thunder way off in the distance. Then, as it neared, this became foreshadowed by the bright flashes of lightening.

As the lunch hour came to its end, the storm seemed to rage ever closer. The dark bluish tinged clouds that seemed to cover most of the visible sky. Simultaneous flares of lightning and thunder together. The rain soon followed on, thumping violently on the tin roof of the cafeteria. An echoing din made only louder by the hollow building.

Naturally, all conversation within the room turned to the storm. Only quieting when the peals of thunder resounded outside.

We collected up our untouched food, discreetly hiding it away in our bags ready for the compost heap at home. Rosalie disappeared off to her health class, while I walked with Edward and Emmett towards English Lit. As we passed along the main corridor, the storm got progressively worse.

From the number of students pressed against the windows and those straining to see over the crowd at each, the disbelieving murmurs of hail.

While I was one of those who couldn't see above the small congregations of people, it was hard to miss the noisy clunks the ice made when hitting the roof above us. Bouncing as they made contact with the solid surface.

The students made such a commotion that the teachers soon came to usher them on their way to class, mildly exasperated that the student's fascination with the weather. Eventually - and rather reluctantly - the groups began to move onwards.

I parted ways with Edward and Emmett as they both found their classroom. While I continued to seeking out the small, ground floor, classroom that always seemed to smell like musty paper and tobacco. I entered alongside a boy - who kindly held open the door - and also happened to be my bench partner.

But my thanks were rendered ignored, as the electrical lights dimmed ominously, before returning to normal brightness. They flickered several times, making a strange buzzing noise as they did so. Once again dimming, before completely switching off.

"Who's leant on the switches?" Our teacher boomed across the room. "Turn them back on, if you please."

"No one, Sir," called my partner, leaning outwards of the threshold to view the corridor, "it's a power cut. Hallways gone out too."

The rest of the class was suddenly abuzz with excitable chatter, numerous people turning to their nearest neighbour. I took my seat regardless, but proved to be an unwanted backseat neighbour to the girl who sat in front of me. She turned as if to say something, realised it was I and promptly turned back around.

"Power cut?" Mr Goodman replied, trying to quiet his excitable students, as his portly shape meandering around the desks.

"Yes, Sir," came the confirmation.

Mr Goodman's moustache twitched in contemplation, he considered the class with narrowed eyes. "Mr Harris," - he pointed a large finger at my bench mate - "you're in charge for the moment. Keep class until I return."

"Yes, Sir."

With a slight waddle to his steps, Mr Goodman disappeared out of the classroom and down the corridor, his slightly squeaky shoe audible all the way.

He did not return for a good thirty minutes, by which time the hail had been replaced with heavy rainfall, but the electrics still remained faithfully off. We heard the squeaky shoe first, followed by his heavy set breathing as he burst into the classroom with a flourish.

"Important news," he boomed into an already quiet room. "The principle has directed the faculty to let you all know, due to several downed power lines that feed the school and surrounding area. Afternoon classes have been cancelled for the day."

His speech was drowned out by an eruption of celebratory talk.

"However," he shouted loudly over the chatter, "this does not exempt you from doing homework; it is not a viable excuse. And unless stated otherwise, all classes resume as usual tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?"

He was quickly assured that we all understood, barely having time to complete his dismissal before students were out of their seats. A rush of Oxford shoes, pompadour hair, and flared skirts, all disappeared within a minute. Leaving me to follow in their wake, a little slower, but just as gleeful to leave school early.

The initial excitement of leaving early was slight dashed, as most of the student populous had to wait for the school buses to return from dropping off the elementary children. And with the storm still raging outside, those who usually walked home stayed behind to wait it out. So only a small fraction of us with cars could actually leave.

Very kindly did Emmett brave the rain – although he seemed to rather like slowly jogging through it – to fetch the car and bring it closer to the school building. Appeasing Rosalie's demands and rather secretly my own desire not to get soaking wet.

The journey home was rather a slow one, as the heavy rain deluge came pouring off the sodden fields and settled in great puddles on the narrow roads. We were wise enough to avoid attempts to speed through the small road lakes; any inwards splashes to the engine bay would undoubtedly end our drive. So for the sake of getting home today, we had to settle for a painfully slow speed. Watching as the water rippled outwards from the car, in an almost hypnotic fashion.

"I just had a thought, Bella," Emmett began, once we had finished discussing the benefits of getting an all-terrain vehicle, "today's Tuesday-"

"Well deduced," Edward interrupted.

"_Hey, Edward_. I wasn't talking to you," came his smart remark, giving Edward a hard stare through the rear view mirror. "As I was saying… today's Tuesday, didn't Alice say your big parcel was arriving this afternoon?"

"Yeah," I recalled, twisting the end of my ponytail around my finger. "That's what she told me. Although, I still have no idea what it could be… let's hope it's something interesting."


	103. Chapter 102: Parcel

_A/N: Thanks once again for the reviews, much appreciated. And greetings to those who have recently joined this ongoing story._

_vgxt: Really glad you enjoyed the chapter. Hoping you will enjoy this one as well, especially the whole 'mystery package,' I feel I've built it up enough… kind of nervous about reader disappointment. But regardless, thanks for the continuing support. _

_viola1701e: Vampire's playing tag really is such a fun image. It's nice to write them being immature, acting like children. I felt it was a must to at least include Emmett and his tree swinging… although not as easy as it seems. Thanks for the review, always nice to hear from you. _

_A Bonny Mouse: Hello again! I'm really not being very subtle with the whole parcel thing, hope it doesn't disappoint. You are more than welcome for the Uni advice; I really hope it has been some use. London life it so brilliant. _

_Cullen football… I kind of just supposed they would use a regular leather ball. Well-constructed fabric balls can withstand some incredible forces, as long as it isn't punctured. It may wear out quicker… honestly, I have no idea. _

_Haha, yes, the teachers are based on actual people (some even teachers I had at A-Level.) Thank you very much for noting my attempts at historical accuracy, I do a fair bit of research to get a feel for the time periods. Random things like household items, clothing styles and brands, manufactures, car models, technology, developed chemical compounds… the list goes on. I don't actually study history – I have a degree in Forensic Science – but I've learnt so much through research. More than I did at secondary school level. _

_It's been a while since I read in the Twilight Fandom. Two of my absolute favourites were both removed from the site during the so called 'purge.' I was going to PM you some recommendations… but I remembered you were a guest. So I've managed to find another of the ones I like, it's in my favourites (1929.) I'm also open to recommendations. _

_Nice to hear from you once again, hope you enjoy. _

_FairyDemonDust: You will soon find out! Thanks for the review. _

_Disclaimer I do not own the right to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter One Hundred and Two: Parcel<span>

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Dressed to the nines in a double breasted suit and crisp white shirt, the little man on the television screen gave a polite bow and oddly saluted the audience before him. Thanking the polite round of applause he got from the mere announcement of his name. "Welcome, once again, to Beat the Clock." – the monochrome screen flickered – "Where you have the time of your life, playing against time, for big time prizes."

The shaky camera panned across to the contestants, re-introducing a stern looking husband and wife duo. Flanked by a ridiculously large sign, advertising the show's sponsor: Sylvania.

"I already saw this one," Emmett announced immediately, "change the channel, please."

"You've probably seen them all," I muttered. "Watching re-runs all night. And you're closer to the changer, you do it."

Without actually moving from his armchair, Emmett stretched forward, grappling on the ground for the changer which lay just out of his reach. He arched and bent his fingers along the carpet, making strange straining sounds and looking like a complete fool. Persistence eventually wore off; as he managed to reach it while hovering awkwardly out of his seat.

"That was possibly the most graceless thing I have ever witnessed," Edward commented, his fingers preoccupied with playing with my hair. "Even beating the time Isabella fell out of the attic."

"I did not fall out the attic," I reprimanded. "It was just a tactless descent."

"Did you _tactlessly descend_ from the trees this morning?" Emmett questioned with a dimpled grin – now back safely in his arm chair.

"Something like that," I muttered against his raucous laugh.

He soon stopped chuckling as he failed to change the channel, pointing the controller at the television screen and rather violently clicking the buttons. When that failed to work, he attempted to move it around… which also failed to have any effect. "I thought this was supposed to be advance technology," he complained, hitting the remote against his palm. "It doesn't work."

"You have to be directly in front of the screen," Edward told him, "not too far away… but not too close either."

"That makes no sense," came his groan. "Why must everything be more complex? What was wrong with the old controller?"

"The wire was frayed and was a possible fire hazard," I replied.

"Bit of insulation tape would have sorted that," Emmett said, moving across the room - still attempting to change the channel. He came and stood directly in front of me on the sofa, being deliberately intrusive.

"Emmett," I complained, uselessly trying to push him out of the way. "Move."

"Finally," he cheered, as the channel changer began to do its job. "You had the best seat all along, Bella. Move aside."

Without giving me any time to move, he sat down promptly on the sofa. Squashing me awkwardly between both he and Edward. Flicking through the various channels, unbothered by my complaints and attempts to move him over. "You must be the most annoying person I've ever met," I told him, jostling my shoulder against his.

"Impossible," Emmett replied, knocking his shoulder lightly back against mine. "You're forgetting Edward's here."

When it became clear he would not move I was forced to escape from between them. Pressing down on the top of Emmett's head for leverage – using some unneeded force to make my point. But I was unable to completely free myself. "Emmett, you're on my skirt," I complained, lightly pulling on the fabric. "I'm pretty close to flashing my garter at you."

He moved aside with adept speed, declaring he didn't see anything.

I straightened out the newly formed creases in my skirt, displaying a disgruntled frown in the hopes of showing my displeasure. While Edward showed a degree of care - not minding if I shared the small space with him - Emmett had already become engrossed within another obscure game show. Cheering for the contestant with the most absurd facial hair.

This enjoyment was short lived, because the storm that had been prolific throughout the afternoon was not finished causing havoc. Without any warning, the house was purged of all electrical power. There was no dimming or flickering, just a sudden change, where the natural day light had to suddenly compensate for the lack of bright electrical imitation. But with the thick, dark clouds still taking up much of the sky, the daylight lacked its potential. The corners of the room were dark.

Emmett's sigh of annoyance was followed by Rosalie's groan of frustration. Her attempts to blow dry her hair had come to a jarring halt.

"I thought the storm had passed?" I questioned, moving to the windows to view the skies.

"Weather report said it would be stormy throughout the day," Edward said. "It's going to get colder after that."

"Let's hope for a bit of snow," said Emmett.

"After spending six months in Alaska, I would have assumed you'd grown sick of the snow," I replied, watching as a familiar car came down the drive.

"Nah," he waved away the assumption, "Garrett and the others don't appreciate the snow like we do, they see it so often it's not as appealing."

"Well, that's somewhat understandable," I responded, a little distracted by the flashes of lightening in the distance.

These flashes also caught the attention of Carlisle - whom up to this moment had been collecting his things from the car. The low rumble of thunder eventually accompanied the bright lights, a sure sign it was quite a distance from us. But the direction of its travel was yet unknown.

The front door opened with its usual wood bound creak, followed by a gust of rather warm wind and eventually Carlisle.

"Welcome back," I called out. "How was the night shift?"

"Busy, but that was to be expected. A game between the Saints and the Knights always turns a little vicious," came the reply as he undoubtedly removed his shoes.

Joining us in the living room once he had completed the task. He greeted us with an ever so slightly confused expression, "But you're all back rather early? Everything alright?"

"Power cut at school," Edward answered. "They decided to send everyone home early... mostly because the air conditioning stopped working. Deemed it too humid. And Alice and Jasper have gone to that small shopping plaza near the Military Base."

"Yes, Alice did mention it. I think Jasper is keen to continue pushing himself," he mused. "Now… can I presume powers out here too, or are we trying to save money on the electrical bill?"

"It only went out a moment ago," I relayed to him. "Just before you pulled up. I'm beginning to think you jinxed us, Carlisle."

"My apologies, I sometimes forget my omen like abilities," he joked, removing his slightly damp trench coat. "Guess we'll have to make our own entertainment, just like old times."

"When you say old times," began Emmett with a grin.

"Emmett, if this is going to be another jibe at my age, can I at least hang my coat up first?" Carlisle interrupted."

"Sure thing, old man."

"I applaud that quick response, but denounce its quality," Carlisle said without missing a beat. Leaving the room before any more of Emmett's poorly constructed jibes could be uttered.

"Congratulations, Em. Attempting to battle Carlisle in a game of wits really is a brave thing to do," I commented, unable to help ginning at his misfortune. "That _old man_ has nearly three hundred years on you, plenty of time to gather enough witty comebacks."

"And I'm terribly impartial to a witty come back," Carlisle added, re-joining the room once more. "Better luck next time, Emmett."

Finding our own source of entertainment was more difficult than previously thought. Eventually, the only thing we remotely agreed on was trying to find the old vacuum tube radio, bringing it up from the basement and trying to find some entertaining station.

It seemed we could barely survive one moment without technology.

It was not long after we delegated Edward and Emmett the job of bringing up the radio from the basement, that Esme returned from college. Bringing news that the stormy weather had arrived in Plattsburgh, felling quite a few power lines both around the outskirts and within the city. Cutting electricity at the University and prompting her early return home.

With no definitive knowledge about the return of the electrical power, Esme and I went to gather up the candles from around the house. Returning with a bounty of differently shaped ones, lighting a couple, but leaving the majority for this evening – should the blackout endure till then.

To which Rosalie was incredibly vocal in her vehement rejection; still sporting her half dry hair, restrained with a scarf. She snorted at the sight of the old radio, clearly unimpressed with the outdated technology. "It's been living in basements for so long; I doubt it even works anymore."

She was right. It failed to even power on.

Before I could add my two cents to the diagnosis – and most likely have them shot down by Rosalie – my attentions were diverted by the rumble of a heavy engine. Getting louder as it moved closer to the house. The appearance of a large white courier van was no surprise.

Presuming it was for my benefit, I moved to meet it at the door.

The man who greeted me was rather smartly dressed in white coverall, a pressed collar and embezzled with a stitched company motif. He greeted me with a tip of his matching hat; apparently unbothered by the drizzling rain that he had just walked through.

"I have a parcel for a," - he read the note on his clipboard - "Miss Cullen."

"I am she," I responded, opening the door a little wider in-spite of the rain blowing sideways.

"Excellent, I have a parcel for you. But I'll need you to sign for it, if that's alright?"

"Of course," I agreed, taking the offered pen and scribbling down one of my many signatures. Watching as he retreated to the van, slowly jogging through the rain protecting his clipboard all the way. He returned minutes later, a large parcel under arm, doing his best to shield it.

"Here you are, Miss," he said. "Be careful how you open it, quite a few fragile stickers on that."

He wasn't joking; there were multiple stickers plastered all over the generic brown paper, some covering the folds, others stuck over the heavy duty twine. "I'll make sure to take care," I answered, tucking the parcel under my arm. "Thank you."

He tipped his hat once more. "Have a good day," - moving to the safety of the commercial vehicle.

The door closed with its usual wooden creak, halting the gusts of wind that were blowing rain onto the wooden floor. But my concern for the wet floors was all but gone, suddenly replaced with an unsettling, sinking feeling as I viewed the neat rows of stamps in the top corner.

Each small, scalloped edge piece of paper bore the words '_Poste Italiane_.'

I had no business with anyone in Italy. My correspondent did not extend so far into southern Europe – primarily due to one reason and one reason alone. The Volturi.

I took a deep settling breath, exhaling in a long and controlled manner. Scolding myself for jumping straight to an unknown conclusion. I needed to confirm my suspicions. There was no point making unneeded worry for other people in the house.

I stole away into the emptiness of the kitchen, dumping the parcel on the breakfast table before collecting a knife from the normally unused utensil draw. With clean ease I cut through the tightly knotted twine, peeling away the '_fragile'_ stickers that were in the way.

The brown paper rustled as I bent back the precisely folded wrapping, undoing each corner and revealing the stiff black box within. But the box was blank, no writing, no insignias, just matte black in colour, the size of a large shoe box.

For the second time I fought against a wave of unsettled emotions, dreading what I would find within this Pandora's Box.

I really hoped it was some kind of research group looking for funding, maybe an old friend or acquaintance, it could even be a mistake...anything but a package from _them_.

But I didn't know any research groups who had affiliations with Italy. The friends and acquaintances I did have, knew better than to travel through any Italian regions. And what were the chances of being wrong on both name and address?

"Open it," I mumbled to myself. "Just, bloody, open it." While not quite the encouragement of the century, it was sufficient in doing its job.

I whipped off the lid in quick succession, haphazardly tossing it across the table, not caring when it fell onto the kitchen floor. My attentions were focused entirely on the contents of the box.

On top of some kind of plush, jet fabric, was a single white envelope. The corners were embellished with fancy gold embossing, and the paper quality second to none. The only inclination to recipient came from the front of the envelope, where - written in some beautifully archaic hand - was my name.

If the sender had not already been confirmed, there was one more bold affirmation: The Volturi coat of arms, having been ostentatiously pressing into the wax seal.

The final acknowledgment came like a punch to the gut. My hands unconsciously scrunched up the corners of the envelope, creasing the embossed gold swirls that decorated two of the four edges.

It had been nine years. Nine years since they had forced be south, entering into a fight because of sly words and persuasive talents. Nine years since I had survived the massacre, last seen the Volturi - or what remained of them - as I fled back home.

In all that time, I had heard nothing from the inhabitants of Volterra. A silence that I was completely and utterly content with.

The possible contents of the letter was completely unknown, I could not even begin to guess the reason for its appearance. I sat down heavily on a kitchen chair, flipping the envelope over in my fingers with an initial contemplation.

The rest of the house were currently embroiled in trying to fix the old radio. Distracted by the task at hand. The slight bickering was somewhat a comforting backdrop, the family noise a brilliant assurance all was well. A confidence boost and the encouragement needed to open the letter.

Green sealing wax quietly popped, as the opening flap came cleanly away from the rest of the envelope. The Volturi crest remaining perfectly preserved within the high grade wax. I discarded the paper to one side, unfurling the precisely folded letter, noting my name at the top and beginning to read the content:

'_Dearest Isabella, _

_I send you many fond and rosaceous greetings. Sincerely hoping this letter finds - not only your self - but all the members of your family in fine form and excellent constitution._

_Time certainly does pass at an extraordinarily fast rate; far too much has elapsed since we both last exchanged words. Almost reaching on for a decade. I felt, I simply must rectify this abhorrent lack of communication; write to our dear friends in the America's. _

_Alas, it is to you whom I pen this letter. After all the unpleasantness we experienced all those years ago, I thought I need send you my gratuitous thanks in writing - I find penning a declaration the most intimate and meaningful. We must celebrate such a fortunate alliance, one that reaped its bounty in erasing such a terrible threat from our society. With the utmost success and longevity in assuring there will be no repeats. _

_On this note, for your peace of mind and ours also, I am more than delighted to relate to you some recent news. _

_It was during young Percival's most stupendous attempts to outrun justice, that I was able to obtain the knowledge required to assure myself of the finality of the unpleasantness. While I was initially unable to act upon this gained knowledge - for you are quite aware of the toll on our resources - having replenished our numbers, finality was something I was all too keen to assure. _

_Earlier within the year, several members of my family were able to successfully track down two nomadic persons, to whom we classified as a threat. Having shared origins with Percival, they were deemed unpredictable. We hold the safety of our society to the highest esteem; therefore we could not possibly risk the chance of a repeat. _

_It was a means of tying up loose ends. You, of course, Isabella, understand nothing can be left to mere chance. Rest assure the whole sordid business is now over, and those who seek to disrupt our peaceful ways have been dealt with. _

_May justice ever prevail to keep us safe. _

_I wish good fortune and grace on your family. You remain ever our loyal friends, and we in turn yours. Remember, there is always a place for you here, should you wish. A little token with the letter should assure you of such a thing._

_Regards,'_

The wording was careful, clever, and so terribly blasé in accounting the_ unpleasantness_ of nine years ago. Downplaying the seriousness of the past vocations with such ease, concealing the massacre with flowery words and long simpering declaration of an alliance. I knew the style of Aro before I even saw his signature at the bottom.

Carefully wording his letter, so if intercepted, they would gain no knowledge and understand little of his discourse. But containing enough information that I should gain the complete picture.

It seemed the Volturi had restocked themselves, confident enough to move from Volterra and begin upholding the _laws_ once more. He spoke of finality, while he did not say the two nomads were killed… it was heavily implied. _I would expect no less._

It took me a while to realise of whom they spoke, before eventually I came to an assumed conclusion over the identity of the two nomads. Percival had off handily mentioned two others who had survived Maria's attack alongside him; two vampires who had been newborns during my time in the south. Elsie and John. The last I heard – rather _reliably _from Percival – they had parted ways with him in favour of traveling to South America, wanting nothing to do with him.

They had been killed as a means of 'tying up loose ends.' It was a clear assurance of just how chilling the Volturi really were.

The letter was a threat, deeply concealed within the prose of keeping our alliance alive and well. While the Volturi may have regained their power, they would be utter fools to underestimate the political power of our coven. It was far easier to keep us on good terms, than to instigate a fight. The same was true for ourselves.

As I scanned through it for a second time, properly considering the last line with a little more care, I was met with a slightly confusing phrase. Something regarding a '_little token_.'

I pulled the box towards me, taking a closer look at the dark fabric that filled the majority of the box. Having disregarded it as mere ostentatious padding beforehand, I was alarmed to come across such dense woollen fabric. Tightly woven and very much waterproof, should the situation require.

Having no regard for the quality, I tipped the box upside down, the garment falling onto the table with a dull thud. The tightly folded item unfurling a little at the corners. But it was not until I completely unravelled the mass of heavy fabric that the full effect of the _token_ came to light.

The black cloak hung from my fingers in an ominous display, its hems sweeping the tiled floor. In contrast to the coarse wool on the outside, the inner lining was noticeable soft, most likely moleskin. The entire cloak, inner and outer layers were black in colour. The only variation came in the neck chain and fasteners, which shone a stately sliver.

It was the exact same cloak that each and every Volturi guard member possessed, generically owned by each one of them. An item I had been forced to wear during the journey to the desert, quickly discarded when the fighting began.

But the cloak was a little less generic than I first presumed. Upon holding it up, I realised the length was near perfect to my own height. The hem just touching the ground as I aligned it with my shoulders.

"Can I assume this is not the circuit board we had all hope for?" Carlisle questioned from the kitchen doorway.

"No," I replied. "It most certainly is not."

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><p><em>AN: Without many formatting options, I hope the letter is at least distinguishable from the rest of the text. Thanks once again for spending your time reading my chapters. I finally have had the time to sit down and plan out the last parts of this story; for the first time there is an end in sight. _

_Please do leave some feedback, it's always nice to hear from everyone. _


	104. Chapter 103: Humans

_A/N: Thanks for all the continuing support._

_vxgt: Yeah, power cuts are the most annoying thing ever. Especially when your computer turns off when you haven't saved work… I really should know better by now. The cloak is more a symbol of an emerging Volturi; they have re-established themselves. They can make the grand gestures - unwelcome gestures - of alliances without having to worry about the repercussions. The cloak and letter are not only there as a warning, but to make sure the Cullen's understand their position. Or maybe Aro is just being a major asshole. It could just be that. Thanks for the review._

_Holidai: I'm really glad you liked it! Enough to make you twirl… well that has made my week. Don't worry about the reviewing (although, I did kind of miss seeing your username,) laptops are a pain! Technology hates me so much. Thanks for managing to review, good luck with the laptop._

_Harley-Quinn38999: It's not over yet! But I will be rather sad to finish writing; it has been a constant companion for over three years. A sequel…oh my days, I wouldn't know what to write about. Maybe I could do one-shots? Write about things that had to be cut out of this story. Thanks for reviewing. _

_coralsea25: Hello, all the way from chapter one. Glad you like a bit of Kipling. Hope you are enjoying wherever you are. _

_viola1701e: You made me spit my drink out! I had just written a certain part of the chapter when your review came in… you and I are on the same wave length with the LOTR reference (I hope you like it.) I love the idea of Alice playing all the other hobbits…I don't know how that would work, but epic. Aro and creepy go hand in hand, but he's a smart one. Just letting the Cullen's know the Volturi are back to their former power. Thanks for the review. _

_Guest: Hello, nonny. Thanks for all the reviews. I'll try to address some of the things you have asked; forgive me if they are a little out of context, it has been a while since I have properly looked over the very early chapters. In this story mates don't immediately recognise each other; I want it to me a real as possible. Relationships take work, regardless of being mortal or immortal. Carlisle changed Rosalie because she instigated a desire to be saved; and while obviously not thinking of a possible mate for Edward, Carlisle merely wanted to give her a second chance. Her transformation is completely normal… Rosalie just likes to make a fuss._

_A Bonny Mouse: No worries, it's nice to hear from you regardless. Vampire's seeing in the dark… I don't think they can. While they have enhanced vision and can see in low levels of lighting… they would need a degree of light. But that is completely up to speculation… I'm not an expert on vampire anatomy. As for candles, I guess they like a cosy atmosphere? Better than sitting in the dark. You totally guess the package sender… maybe I'm becoming predictable. Honestly, I just thought black was a better colour. Easier to hide covertly when your in black… hiding in the shadows, moving around at night. I did write the guard in black during the fight… so I'm kind of rolling with this stories canon. Hope you enjoy the rec, I really enjoyed reading it. Thanks for the review. _

_Dislcaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter One Hundred and Three: Humans<span>

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"I don't know why everyone's going on about the damn thing," Rosalie announced bluntly, her unwavering pace forcing me along as we walked between classes. "What is there to consider? Just return the cloak, and tell them you will join when hell freezes over. End of."

"I'm sure that will go down well," I muttered, jostling my books in my arms and avoiding the human traffic that bounded down the narrow corridors. "That's just a polite way of telling Aro to fuck off."

"You said it, but we're all thinking it," she declared, fixing a loose blonde curl that had fallen across her forehead. "Even Carlisle at some point. Now I may not have the tactical answers that Jasper has, or complex reasons for Aro's behaviour, that Carlisle supplied. But I do know – and I'm going to put this in Emmett's terms – Aro is an ass. It doesn't matter how old he is, intellectual, or worldly. He's still an ass."

"You are certainly channelling some inner Emmett," I told her, grinning as she rolled her eyes at me. "I appreciate the pep talk nonetheless, hearing Aro being called an _ass_ kind of brings a humour to the whole letter thing. But I'm not sure what to do with the cloak; Edward wants me to get rid of it."

"You're thinking of… keeping it?" she said, reading the apprehension from my face.

"Maybe," I replied.

"Why?" she blurted out, gifting me with a quizzical look. "You're not going to wear it, are you?"

"No," I stressed. "I'm not going to wear the damn thing. I'm just, maybe, going to keep hold of it for now. Not make any rash decisions."

She didn't immediately reply, but waited until a large group of students passed us by. Watching until she was assured they were out of range. "Is this because of what Jasper said? Half the things that come out of his mouth make no sense. You can't take advice from someone who hasn't existed in actual society for practically a century."

"Rosalie," I warned. "Cut him some slack, he's doing his best."

She sighed out an aggravated breath, "I agree with Edward, you should get rid of it. Don't try playing some political game. Jasper may think holding onto it, will give you some mystical leverage. But you will only be ensnaring yourself deeper in their game. I think you should destroy it."

"Should I gather a fellowship, Gandalf?"

The look she gave me could only be called scathing. "Just get rid of it," she said, turning on her heel and disappearing into her classroom. Leaving me with the distinct feeling the jest was very much under appreciated.

I walked a little way further down the corridor, keeping close to the walls as I tried to avoid being trampled by humans. The raucous nature of the school sporting youths encompassed everything within the hallways, the football team always travelled in a pack. Stealing one another's bags and tossing them from one member to another.

Each one wore a cardigan sweater, low buttoning, sleeves rolled up and baggy in style. Even without their sporting jerseys, they were still identifiable as a team… _should anyone suddenly happen to forget._

One of the taller boys rather skilfully stole another's satchel, tossing it over his head to another boy waiting in the flanks. But as it was tossed back, the taller boy failed to look where he was going and knocked into me.

While I tried to falter a little, take some of the impact, his torso made contact with my shoulder - a surely painful punch. His hand reflectively going to the source of pain, his face contorted with a wince. But surrounded up his peers, he did well to hide the declaration of his pain.

He looked ready to deliver a swift rebuttal to whomever had caused him pain, yet upon finding it was I, the premature scolding was dropped. "Sorry," he mumbled, looking a degree embarrassed. "Should have looked where I was going… you're not hurt, are you?"

"No," I replied curbing my annoyance, watching as his friends nudged and gestured in our direction. "A little bump, but I'm sure I'll survive."

"Good," he said, nodding. Unconsciously pressing his arm against his torso. "Sometimes I don't know my own strength…"

"That's alright. No blood, no foul." I told him, moving away from the awkward social situation and back into the realm of social ambiguity. While his friend's crowded around him, praising his ability to talk to a female.

Regardless of his _wooing _abilities, the taller boy would undoubtedly be sporting a pretty hefty bruise and some sore ribs come tomorrow. He had practically knocked into a brick wall. I hoped he was a strong as he made out, otherwise the _Chiefs_ may be a player down.

I made it to my classroom without _taking out_ any more members of the football team; entering into Health class with the usual indifferent attitude I had towards the subject. It required little to no work or engagement, as long as one possessed a degree of common sense it was easy to get a decent grade.

But of all the subjects I had within my schedule and all the classes I attended, Health was the only class where I found odds with another student.

Almost diagonally from my desk, sat a baby faced young woman. Hair always curled in Shirley Temple style ringlets, tied back with various different coloured ribbon. Hems always embroidered with flowers or other cutesy patterns.

But for all her sweetness, this girl did not seem to like me. The dislike had originated from me _stealing_ her seat on the first day of term. I refused to move. Being close to the open window had helped with the blood lust. Since that moment, the dislike on her part had grown.

She never did anything malicious, or outright nasty. Just small, petty things. She was usually first to volunteer for tasks, hand bolting into the air whenever the teacher made a request. Subsequently, she would _forget_ to give me a hand-out or textbook, fail to collect in my homework, _accidentally_ knocking my pens from my desk upon passing by. Frivolous things that I tried not to get irked by.

I was much older than she, and hopefully much more astute through those age related experiences. Brushing off the petty acts should have been easy. But the moment she flounced through the threshold, wearing that same little smile she gave me each time she tried to beguile me, I could not help but visualise grabbing a hand full of her ringlets and giving them a rather violent tug.

She adjusted her poufy skirt before sitting behind the desk she was now forced to call her own - after my blatant refusal to move. Waiting and poised to offer her services to our teacher.

Her hand shot up like a rocket before Mrs Elkin even uttered the words. "T-Thank you, Miss Maloney. Always so… helpful."

"You're most welcome, Miss," my class nemesis chirped.

I expected her to once again forget to give me a textbook, but she did stop at my desk and hand me one. Unfortunately, she dropped it before I had a grasp upon it. I was unable to reflectively reach for it, and was forced to watch it drop to the floor with a dull thud. Landing pages splayed on its spine.

"Oops," she giggled, "butter fingers."

"Oh my goodness, how can you be so inept?" I declared aloud. Unable to stop the words as they seemed to tumble from my mouth, avoiding any social filter I had.

It wasn't even quiet enough for me to deny. The entire class turned towards the scene, eyes flicking to the dropped textbook before they landed on the two of us. Miss Maloney looked surprised by my outburst, before gathering her wits and looking for aid from the teacher.

"M-Miss Cullen," Mrs Elkin admonished, rather skittishly moving towards us. "I don't think you should use such a word, it was just an accident. I think you owe Miss Maloney an apology."

In principle, I should have just apologised to the child. It would have been a simple way out. But instead I replied through the guise of frustration and petulance. "No, I shan't."

"M-Miss Cullen," Mrs Elkin stuttered in nervous outrage. "I insist you apologise."

I really should have just apologised.

But my usual composure was already shot, frayed by the appearance of a letter and cloak at my door. Now some foolish mortal was attempting to tell me what to do. "I refuse," I told her.

The class was deathly silent. Their jittery heart beats seemed to display their apprehension at my rather terrible defiance.

Mrs Elkin's eyes were comically wide, almost displaying the entire whiteness around her iris. She just stared at me, mouth opening and closing, unable to come up with a coherent sentence. "P-Principal," she managed to squeak out. "You much go to the Principal's office."

"Very well," I responded, collecting my coat and satchel. "Should I go alone?"

Our young teacher suddenly looked stricken, unsure whether I could be trusted to go alone. She gave me a nervy look, eyes never quite making direct contact with my own. Thumbs rubbing against forefingers.

I didn't present a very friendly persona, lips tersely pursed, doing their best to hold back a frustrated growl that built at the back of my throat. It was a wonder she didn't try to back away from me, instincts were hard to ignore.

"I'm trusting you to go alone," she said, trying her best to sound at least a degree confident. But the hairs on her arms raised to counter her tone and the quiver in her muscles. "You will explain what has happened. Make sure you do, because I'll check."

"I'm not one for telling falsities," I told her bluntly. "I'll tell him everything."

She nodded without saying anything, taking a deep breath to settle the rapid palpations of her heart.

I spared Miss Maloney any kind of second glance as I departed the room, hoping she and her ridiculous ringlets had learnt some kind if lesson from all this. Spare herself the embarrassment of being called inept in front of the whole class... but at least my insult had been child friendly. There were many words I could have happily substituted in.

With my satchel hanging limply from my hand, I walked along the deserted corridors at a sedate pace. Feet ambling along the edge of the floor tiles, while I contemplated whether or not to go to the Principal's office, or just go home early once again. Perhaps just never come back to this school, or any school in the future.

I hated school. I disliked the pointless lessons, wasting my time. I disliked the cafeteria and the rancid smell of cooked food; everyday some new menu to contend with. I disliked the humans. People bumping into you along the corridors, getting in the way, and acting like morons.

The whole thing was completely pointless, I just wasn't made for school.

But moping about the corridors hating school, was eventually going to be interrupted. I smelt the scent of hot coffee long before Mr Henke appeared. "Miss Cullen, any reason I find you galavanting about the hallways?" Dressed once again in a woollen jacket of a dark brown pallor; mug in hand and giving me a quizzical look. "Lost, perhaps? I'd have thought you'd have found your way by week two."

"No," I replied, placing my satchel on my shoulder instead of dragging it about the floor. "I'm not lost. Off to the Principal's office."

"What have you done to deserve that?" He said, sipping his coffee.

"I called another student, _inept_," I declared.

He gulped down his drink, fixing me with a frown. "I was actually joking. I presumed you were on an errand. Got yourself into trouble... didn't peg you for it."

"Then you pegged me incorrectly, Sir."

"Quite obviously. Now, calling another student, inept, hardly calls for a trip to the Principal," he stated surely. "What else was it?"

"I refused to apologise," I said. "One can hardly apologise for telling the truth, regardless of how mean it may seem. In fact, it was pretty tame."

His lip pulled ever so slightly into a smile, but years of practice had reigned in the weakness of letting it openly show to students. "Miss Cullen, I had deemed you to be a smart cookie. Surely apologising would be less hassle."

"Maybe I'm in the mood for hassle," I muttered, allowing him to walk me towards the Principal's office.

"Mood for hassle..." he repeated, sipping down his drink. "What has brought on this mood?"

I carefully considered how to phrase my words, not wanting to instigate anything unusual about family differences. "Nothing really," I replied sullenly, doing my best impression of a young person. "I just dislike being bullied, I'm not going to sit back and take it. I have four brothers, Sir, so I've learnt not to be idle while someone tries to intimidate me."

"This is something I have learnt about you, Miss Cullen. I assumed you were a quiet one, perhaps that is not the case," he said. "But you should notify Mr Mosner about everything that has happened."

"Don't worry, I've promised Mrs Elkin. I'd tell him the truth. She says she'll check to make sure I haven't lied, " I reported. "She must consider me to be an idiot, assuming I would try and lie."

"An idiot, eh?" He repeated, gulping down his coffee. "I've seen a hundred idiots try and lie to save themselves the punishment of detention. It never ceases to amaze me. They think the faculty do not speak to one another, that we do not communicate with each other. But idiots will be idiots." – he suddenly gestured towards the Principal's office - "It's never too late to apologise? Save yourself the trouble."

"I only apologise when it's my fault," I told him straight. "I shan't apologise."

He nodded his head slowly, considering my words. Either judging me to be right, or a completely stubborn idiot. "I'll go let him know you're here," Mr Henke said, draining the last of his coffee.

The office was on the top floor of the main building, giving the Principal a bird's eye view of the courtyard and walkways below. While Mr Henke was permitted entrance, I was forced to sit and wait in the reception area. Watching as a permed haired lady frantically clicked the keys of a large typewriter, slamming the barrel back to the beginning each time it reached the end. She eventually noticed me, pushing down her glasses and looking at me with squinted eyes.

"Cullen, right?" she questioned. "Isabella?"

"Yes," I confirmed.

"How you finding school? Second week in now."

"It's wonderful," I responded dryly.

She gave me a wide smile. "That's great," returning to her incessant typing. "Bet you've made loads of friends. And a pretty girl like you, probably got a whole line of guys waiting to ask you out."

"Yeah, something like that," I muttered.

"Oh, to be young," - she purred in delight - "you don't know how lucky you are. High school is the best years of your life."

The irony of her words were not lost, and I had to bite back a sarcastic retaliation. She was half my age. Still young herself. Preaching about the advantages of youth. As far as I was concerned High School was nothing to write home about. While being young and social was exceedingly complicated.

"Miss Cullen," Mr Henke appeared from the Principal's domain, eating an apple he had acquired. "You can come in now."

I gathered up my bag and coat, smoothing out the creases in my dress. Entering the room minus any tangible emotion, ready to talk my way out of this situation.

"Please, take a seat, Miss Cullen," Mr Mosner gestured to the lone seat before his desk. "And thank you, Mr Henke." He dismissed my history teacher with a pretentious nod.

"Thank you," I replied, giving him an admirable smile that included only enough teeth to unnerve him.

After manoeuvring the seat to an ideal angle and placing my coat over the back, I eventually sat. Clasping my hands on the edge of my knees, unflinching and ready.

"Mr Henke tells me you are having difficulties with another student," he began, shifting in his leather upholstered chair.

"Yes..." I began a little off beat, wondering just how much Mr Henke had said on my behalf. "Another student in my health class has taken a dislike to me,"

"Do you know why, they have taken a dislike to you?"

"Of course," I stated primly. "I commandeered her favourite seat on the first day of term. I didn't feel well and the seat next to the open window helped."

"Did you tell her you were feeling unwell?"

"No, I shouldn't have to explain myself. The seats weren't allocated, and I got to class well before her."

"And since that first event she has been unkind to you?" He queried.

"Petty," I supplied. "Acts of stupidity, forgetting to delegate me textbooks, forgetting to collect up my homework. Knocking my pens off the table. Dropping my textbook on the floor."

He shifted his weight, crossing one leg over the other. "Do you have any proof?"

"Proof?" I repeated, leaning forward towards the desk as he leaned back.

"Proof of her doing these _petty_ acts?"

"I'm telling you, shouldn't that be proof enough?" I responded sharply.

Out came the handkerchief, as he patted the perspiration from above his lip. "Has your teacher witnessed her behaviour?"

"Of course not," I said, placing a hand on his desk. "Everything she has done can be viewed as an accident. But no one person can be that inept."

"And this lead to the _inept_ comment?"

"Quite obviously, I have no other reason to randomly call others inept," came my calm response.

"I understand your plight, Miss Cullen," he began, refusing to make direct eye contact with me. Watching the space above my head. "But there is not much I can do without proof of her actions."

I sat back abruptly, the seat spindles creaking under the pressure. Looking directly at his face as his eyes roved anywhere but upon mine. "That's a shame," I told him. "My older brother will be upset to hear it. You'll most probably have to meet with him, he will be laxed to let this lie. You understand, of course?"

"There really is no need to make this an external issue," he said quickly. "No point bothering your brother with small issues, when we can solve them internally. That is what adults do in the real world."

"That sounds like a better alternative," I agreed. "I do hate to bother him after a long day's work, he can get rather cranky."

"Of course, of course," he nodded readily, wiping his temple in relief. "How can we remedy the issue?"

"Well," I began, presenting a more agreeable countenance. "I'd very much like to swap classes. Join another health class?"

"I'll have to speak to the faculty about class numbers-"

"Or if that's too much trouble... I could always study the text individually..." I added. "That's how my home tutors allowed us to study, I always find it easier to go at my own pace."

"You would have to make up the same work hours. And take the same exams at the end of the year," he warned.

"Naturally," I waved away the concern.

He nodded his head, deliberating over my proposal with apparent astuteness. But with a meeting with Carlisle on the table - and the apparent _intimidation_ that brought - he was quick to make a decision. "Seeing as Mr Henke has assured me of your class astuteness and ability - and once I have discussed it with Mrs Elkin - I'm sure we can work something out."

"That sounds sensible," I agreed. "My brother will be delighted to know we have been able to solve the issue."

"I'm glad we have been able to aid you, Miss Cullen."

"So am I," I retorted, gathering together my coat and bags as he walked me out. "Just one last thing before I leave, Sir. And I do hate to be a bother."

"Not at all, I'm here to help students, regardless of bother," he responded, keeping a wide allotted space between us. Nervously keeping ahold of his desk, a pointless possession that would do him no good should I make an attempt on his life.

"Good, glad to hear it. I think you should keep an eye on Miss Maloney... I would hate for any other student to become a victim of her petty acts," I told him coyly. "To become so nasty over a mere chair, it really is very childish."

"Indeed," he replied, "I will keep an ear out."

"Fantastic. Thank you once again, Sir. You have been very helpful."

I left the office feeling rightly triumphant and a little sly, having talked my way out of any kind of punishment, with the added benefit of no longer having to endure health. One less formal lesson was a delight.

School was so much easier when things went my way. Perhaps I'd even be able to tolerate lunch with a smile.

* * *

><p>"I hate this school," Rosalie complained loudly, dumping her bag on the lunch table. "I don't want to be here anymore."<p>

"You have food on you," I pointed to the splattering of red across her pale yellow blouse.

She scowled down at me, as I pretended to drink my water. "Don't you think I know that," came her sharp reply. "Don't you think I can smell it."

"Is that marinara?"

"The stupid little human," she muttered, sitting down with a thump. "I told her to be careful... but she just threw the spoon into the pot."

"Weren't you wearing an apron?"

"The apron was covered in sauce, but it splattered onto my top as well," she put her hand up to signal me to be silent. "That's not even the worst of it."

"There's more?"

"We have to do a project in pairs, I got paired with sauce girl," she hissed. "But that's still not even the worst part; the project has to be completed out of class. At home!"

"That's... rather difficult," I mused. "Are you going to go around to her house?"

"Apparently I can't," she stated sardonically. "Sauce girl's dad works nights. So she can't have friends over at her house."

"So... she's going to have to-"

"Come to ours," Rosalie squawked, practically flapping in irritation.

"Can't you make some excuse?" I tried to placate.

"What, like one of our brothers isn't house trained yet? Possibility of being mauled to death," she ranted.

"Hey, stop fucking off Jasper and you may find yourself an ally. He could make the whole situation a lot easier for you."

"Ugh, we're going to have to play human," she moaned. "At home."

"You'll have to go out and buy perishable food, stock the fridge," I reminded her. "We've only got canned food at the moment can't make much with that."

Her groaning only got incessantly louder, but my attention moved from her frowns and caught the attention of Edward and Emmett, who were making a hasty bee-line for the table. Emmett looking exceedingly boisterous.

"Bella," Emmett sang my name.

"You went to the Principal's office?" Edward interrupted him, stealing the seat he was about to take. "Everything alright?"

"Principal's office?" Rosalie repeated, her frown impossibly deeper. "Why? What happened? What did you do?"

"Word in the hallways says you _called out_ a girl in your health class," Emmett said excitedly. "Did you use some of the words I taught you?"

"Bet she deserved it," Rosalie nodded.

"I didn't swear at her; or use any if the language you taught me, Em. That would have probably made her cry," I answered. "I did _call her out_, but it was pretty tame."

"How come you got sent to the Principal?" Edward questioned.

"Because I refused to apologise," I said. "She was being an ass."

Rosalie smiled out her approval; momentarily forgetting the marinara stain on her blouse. "Bet she thinks twice before bothering you again. Who was it? Want me to break the lock of her locker?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I already dented it a little on the way to the office."

Emmett's raucous laugher boomed loudly, scaring the students around us half to death as they tried to eat their lunches. "Nice," he approved.

"What did Mr Mosner say?" Edward asked, wanting some clear answers instead of some less than helpful approval from Rosalie and Emmett.

"Don't worry," I said, patting his shoulder. "I've not been expelled... don't even have detention. Mr Mosner and I have come to an agreement."

"You're not dropping health, are you?" Rosalie suddenly questioned. "Because I will verbally abuse the next student I see."

"No, I can't graduate without the points needed," I stated. "But he's agreed to allow me to study independently."

"Agreed?" Edward said suspiciously, taking hold of my hand beneath the table. "Did he willingly agree?"

"Yes, of course," I said. "Are you suggesting I manipulated him?"

"Yes," he replied audaciously.

"Was it the threat of Carlisle?" Rosalie guessed.

"Bingo," I replied.

"Did you use a little bit of intimidation?" She queried. "Angry face, squinty eyes, baring teeth?"

"All of the above."

"Well, seeing as you have it easy now, you can help me get ready for our human visitor," she smiled vindictively, stabbing her nails into her apple.

"Rosie, you smell like tomatoes." Emmett declared wrinkling his nose, having narrowed down the smell.

"I'm aware of that," she scowled at him.

"So, we're having a human in the house?" Edward said, having plucked the issue straight from Rosalie. "Was there no possible way you could have talked yourself out of it?"

"Don't you think I tried," she replied icily, her nails making substantial pock marks in the flesh the apple. "I didn't exactly agree to it. There was no other viable option."

"Just asking," Edward responded, holding his hand up in mock surrender. "Guess we're going to have to human proof the house."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Just a little note to say I'm off on holiday next week, so an update may be a little slower than usual. I have no idea if I'll have internet connection… or even a computer. _

_Thank you for reading, please do leave some feedback. _


	105. Chapter 104: Dinner

_Hello, lovelies. Thank you for being so patient with this update. I've had a great holiday and birthday. I'm back and ready to go. Good luck to everyone who has gone back to school, Uni, and such. Also, thank you for the reviews, alerts, and favourites for the previous chapter. As well as the addition to another community! _

_vxgt: Thanks so much for the review. I think I'd probably do the same, stick my foot out, trip them a little. A human in the house is definitely an interesting issue, let's hope it's all plain sailing. _

_viola1701e: I could not resist adding the Gandalf reference, it was just too good to miss. I'm imagining Alice with curly hair and hairy feet… which is very amusing. Haha, I could have included a great HP quote, pity it's nearly forty years till the first book is released. I always wondered how they attended schools so much in the books, surely they must have been bored? That much school is too much school! Thank you for the review and putting that image of Alice in my mind. _

_Holidai: Oh, I'm glad to hear you liked it! Vampires and humans should not mix successfully -predator and prey. While lots of behaviour can be caused by jealousy… I have a hard time believing people can be just plain evil (there are of course exceptions,) but the average school student… mostly petty stuff. I'm glad it came across realistic. Thank you for the review. _

_A Bonny Mouse: Hello again! I've had a great holiday, thank you. I've never been to Sicily, but I've heard it's a beautiful place and very warm. We are heading towards something more substantial in the final story arc… which I hope will be more exciting. Thanks for the review. _

_coralsea25: Hello! Wow, thank you so much for taking the time to read this story (and in such a short time period!) Welcome to the current chapter, and sorry for the delay in the update. Hope you continue to enjoy!_

_angelari7: Thank you very much! Your comments are so kind. It would have been nice for Renee to be reunited with Bella, I did contemplate having that happen. But with the timeline as it is… it wasn't possible. Also, thank you for adding me to your community, it means a great deal to be included with other really great stories. Hope you continue to enjoy. _

_Guest: Hello Nonny. Indeed, Bella has no recollection of being human, but she exists within human society, alongside other vampires whom consider the sanctity of marriage important, even as immortals. Edward has his human memories and was most probably bought up with a faith, while he may no longer consider himself religious, he may still think of marriage as of some importance (I'm presuming this by book canon.) She's using what she has learnt from society and her family to construct her own feelings, it's important to both, therefore it must be a degree important to her. I really hope this is in context, it's been a while since I've read chapter twenty nine. _

_I have no idea about books written by vampires... but I very much like to think that is the case. Who's to say those 'human' authors could not have been vampires in this story? Bella could be settling down with a good book written by Jane Austen the vampire. Thanks for the review, I'm seriously considering having a vampire who writes books now!_

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><p><span>Chapter One Hundred and Four: Dinner<span>

...

...

..

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Across the entirety of the car park the snow had fallen virtually undisturbed, pitting and furrowing into an uneven blanket of white. The only interruption caused by a handful of cars within the lot, and their brave drivers who had trekked from their vehicles into the shopping mall. But their footsteps were almost lost as the snow continued to fall, burying their prints under another layer of powder.

"Good job you wore your tall boots," Edward said, as he switched off the car engine, the sudden loss of warm air began to fog up the windows almost immediately. "Looks pretty deep."

"Should have worn my waders," I replied, having already summarised my height to be the butt of the joke once again. "I didn't expect so much snow to fall overnight; this is more than the half inch they forecast."

"I bet Rosalie is hoping her human friend cancels," he said. "Just a pity the road gritters are already at work. She'll be disappointed."

"She can't deny the inevitable. If not today, the humans going to have to come around eventually," I replied, pulling on my thick woolen mittens as we departed from the car. "The sooner we get this over with, the better."

I waited for Edward to lock the car, before beginning the trek across the whitewashed parking lot, having parked-up quite a distance away. Without visible spaces, the human drivers had done their best to guess, parking parallel to the mall façade, leaving an ample distance between themselves and the barely visible sidewalks. While considerate, there were no actual shoppers using the icy walkways… in fact, there were no people within sight.

"Here," Edward said, holding out his hand for me to take hold of. "One advantage of driving so far from home, we can actually act like we're married for once."

"True," I noted, awkwardly trying to hold his hand with my mittens. "Let's hope we don't run into anyone we know, that would be fun trying to explain."

"They'd get over it eventually," he said, walking through the snow with the ease of a long legged individual.

"Yeah, but it would take them until graduation, and then some," - I kicked off the snow that had settled on the toes of my boots – "unless something more interesting came along."

"Next time, we may as well be honest, straight from the start. Save us the hassle."

I almost stepped right into the snow filled gutter, shunting my shoe against the sidewalk edge. "Next time," I repeated, tugging on his hand. "What do you mean next time?"

"The next school we go to… Don't give me that face."

"This is my horrified face," I told him, wrinkling up my nose even further. "I can do naught to stop it."

"You can't disregard school completely," he stated, quieting his voice as we neared the grocery store. "Seeing as we have a potential forever, the likelihood of us returning is quite high."

"The likelihood of me attending another school is very small, almost nonexistent," I muttered, removing my hat and mittens as the warm air assaulted us inside. "Once I graduate that is it... Do you still have the list? I'm half surprised Rosalie didn't tack it onto your coat."

He waved the list in front of me. "Still got it, haven't lost it yet. Although, I was half tempted to drop it in the snow."

The list we had been given by Rosalie, had been hastily written on a shoddy bit of torn paper. Her neat hand writing slowly becoming more untidy as she scribbled down a montage of items we were to purchase. The list was illogical. Ingredients scribed in two long posts - front and back - it was impossible to know where each individual dish began and ended. There were various underlinings and circling, certain items that had been made bold by her going over them several times. We were _strongly advised_ about which brands to buy and those to vehemently avoid, and the types of food we simply _had_ to purchase.

Failure to abide would almost certainly result in Rosalie's wrath.

"I dread to think what will happen to us if we can't get something on this list," I said, tracing the angry pen impressions with my thumb. "Can we substitute?"

"She'll have to make do," he said, trying to read the specifications over my shoulder. "I can barely read her handwriting... how can someone be so demanding in note form?"

"We should have bought Jasper," I said, taking his hand once again without the difficulties of mitten clad hands. "He's become very savvy at grocery shopping... distracting himself by reading labels. I'm sure he's memorised the ingredients on a great many items."

"I'm sure he'd love to come on our date."

"Date?" I questioned. "I hope this isn't a date. It's not exactly... a date location. Buying processed meat and canned fruit on a Saturday morning. I do have some standards."

"You can blame Rosalie, she's the one who demanded we go shopping for her... even though it's Saturday. She knows we were going to make plans," he said, deliberately picking up the wrong brand of bread despite reading the list.

"We can go out after the human girls gone," I said, replacing the bread with the correct one. "As laxed as Rosalie is to admit, she's going to need your help and most probably Jasper's. We don't all have such useful gifts."

"Well, her ability to help herself is astounding," he replied sarcastically.

"You can't really blame her... in this situation. I would hate to have to entertain a human, never mind having to cook with them, while at home," I commented.

"It's a _tragic_ situation," he said, but the intonation of his voice did not sound the least bit empathic to her plight. "But there's nothing we can do. It's only for a few hours and as long as nothing goes wrong..."

"I don't like having humans in the house," I murmured, as we passed by a shop worker. Edging along the aisle as the man slowly stocked the shelves with an abundance of canned foods. "Having to take down our photographs, buy goods that we have no use for... act all human."

"It's only the incriminating photos we have to take down," he said, reaching for the top shelf above my head.

"Incriminating? That makes us sound like criminals. I'll admit some of the photos will be difficult to explain," I said, inspecting the can he had just handed to me. "But anyone viewing the really dated ones, would have to logically presume we have an obsession with dressing in old style fashion. And while I like vintage items as much as the next person, I'd rather we were not known as the strange family who dress in period clothing."

"There are stranger hobbies out there," he replied.

"I think we're all '_stranged'_ out as far as the humans go. Let's not add to the list."

With little desire to go home and face the chaos of Rosalie anxiety, we took shopping at an all too leisurely pace. Circling the food aisles at an amble, picking up the needed items when we came across them. By the time every item had been collected, it was late morning and the grocers had filled with humans gathering snow supplies.

We had no need from giant shovels, three gallon bottles of water, or sleds - although, Emmett would have enjoyed the latter… _heck, I would have enjoyed the latter. _Regardless, we did eventually leave the grocers.

* * *

><p>Having left a pristine snow covered lawn behind this morning, a completely different scene greeted us on the return. Across the entirety of the front lawn were numerous footprint tracks, intersecting and crossing one another. Alongside the trails were great gaps in the snow, where something had been rolled along the ground.<p>

It did not take long for us to notice the rather large snowman, directly in the center of the lawn and standing at an impressively lofty height. While rather generic as far as snowmen were concerned, it was sporting a rather smart fedora, and a thick woolen scarf that perfectly matched the gloves on its spindly branch arms.

This knitted combination belonged to Emmett - having been a gift some Christmases ago when he and Rosalie took their extended trip to Denali. And now apparently it had been gifted to the giant snowman in the garden.

"He's most probably been put out by Rosalie," Edward said, having already instigated the maker of our snowman.

"At least he's been productive," I replied, admiring Emmett's astuteness in assuring the snow sculpture had facial features. "It has bottle cap eyes, and a creepy smile… I kind of like it."

"Creepy is an understatement, it's terrifying," he responded, unimpressed with Emmett's snow sculpting skills.

"Kind of looks like a Jack-o'-lantern," I commented, hopping down from the car with a brown paper grocery bag in each arm. "Which means Halloween's coming. The best holiday of the year."

Edward gathered up the last of the heavier bags, jostling them between his arms until he had them all securely. "You can be assured we won't be having any trick-or-treaters… with such a terrifying snowman at the end of the drive. I doubt anyone will make it to the house."

"Well, kudos to those who do, they deserve the candy more so," I said, crunching my way through the snow towards the house. Slightly anticipating an ambush from Rosalie - complaining we had been too long.

"At least you have a costume to greet those _brave _souls," he replied off-handily, his comment sounded almost casual in manner.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I questioned, turning to give him my full attention as we stopped under the shelter of the porch to remove our snow boots.

"I just presumed that was the reason you were holding onto _that_ cloak… seems like the only reasonable explanation," he stated bluntly, getting straight to the issue at hand. "Why else would you want to keep it?"

It had been a lingering issue since I had received the item. Whether to dump the cloak, or keep hold of it for alliance terms. There were merits to both options. But making a decision in haste, never seemed to warrant a favorable outcome. _At least, that was my opinion on the matter_. "Until I make a decision, it's going to remain here," I replied, using my elbow to open the door.

"I don't understand why you can't just get rid of it?" he said, having stated the same question on numerous occasions. "It's like a bad omen. Having it staying in the house."

"I didn't think you believed in _omens_?" I replied tartly.

"I don't," came his quick response. "I just don't like having that _thing_ in the house, especially in our room."

"I'll move it someplace else."

"That's not the point," he argued slightly exasperated, dumping the grocery bags on the kitchen table. "Doesn't it remind you of what happened? I don't know if you've suddenly forgotten-"

"Don't even go there," I warned, placing my own bags down in a heavy fashion. "Don't even finish that sentence."

"Well, you're suddenly acting like it never happened," he said sharply. "My apologies if I can't quite forget so easily."

"You think I've forgotten? That it doesn't still affect me." I threw back shrilly. "Honestly, you think I can forget being kidnapped? Being accosted back to the South. And presuming I was going to be torn to pieces. _Yes, I've completely forgotten _every sordid detail."

"I didn't mean it like that," he said, running his hands through his hair in an aggravated manner.

"Then what did you mean?" I responded quickly, pulling off my hat and mittens with a little too much vigor. "Because right now, you are doing a really great job of pissing me off."

"That's a very mutual feeling."

I threw my mittens straight at his chest, departing from the kitchen in an angry haste. Before I said and did something I would ultimately regret. Almost bumping into Rosalie - who had been lingering in the hallway - she looked at little surprised by the argument she had just overheard.

"Groceries are in the kitchen," I almost growled. "We had to substitute some of the ingredients, but that's fine, right?"

"Err, yeah, sure, thanks," she replied, moving out of my way as I made a beeline for the stairs. "Everything… alright?"

"Just peachy," I bit out, glad that she refrained from taking Edward's side over the matter.

Rather childishly did I slam the bedroom door behind me, glad that the rest of the family had scattered with other tasks. Given me a wide berth, time to vent. I could have done with a dose of Jasper's gift, but with he and Alice currently out on a prompt hunting trip, I was forced to stew in my own anger.

I paced around the room in tight circles, shuffling up the rug with the repetitive motion. Made only worse when I deliberately kicked the thing, making it roll up into a useless lump and hit the leg of the dressing table. Knocking a tirade of items onto the floor, including a small tin, which promptly spilt its contents of bobby pins all over the floor. This did nothing to improve my mood.

But as I crouched down to pick up the fallen pins, I came face to face with the very issue that had started up this whole argument. The cloak.

It was stashed in the same box it had arrived in, hidden underneath the vanity while I attempted to decide what to do with it… _which had yet to come to fruition_. Getting rid of it was the easy option, and the one I had initially decided upon. But while I dislike the Volturi - hated them even - it was far better to retain the alliance between our covens.

Carlisle had kept hold of the portrait, it traveled from house to house with us. He didn't like it, but kept it for appearances sake. I wondered if I should do the same thing.

If I destroyed the cloak, all it would take was Aro and his nifty little gift to see that. He wouldn't get the information from me… but I was unsure if I could harness my supposed _shield _ to protect those around me.

But… maybe I was thinking too much, making it far too complex. That was why it was still under the vanity, I couldn't make a decision, so I didn't make one. Just hid it away and pretended the issue didn't exist for the moment. An easy thing to do when there were other more pressing matters going on within the house, the preparation for the arrival of the human had taken more time than expected.

It was easier to become caught up, continue ignoring it, than to make a definitive decision. Unfortunately, when you shared living quarters with another person - and extremely opinionated person - ignoring the issue could not last forever. He had made his opinion known from the very beginning, very strongly.

I hated arguing with Edward, it was not a common occurrence, we were more suited to lighthearted bickering. But sometimes things just got out of hand. We were both opinionated, that much was all too obvious sometimes.

Having picked up the littering of bobby pins from the carpet and reuniting them with their designated tobacco tin, I dragged the box bound cloak from its hiding place. Tucking it underarm with a determined resolution.

The wooden floor on the landing creaked as I departed my room, shuffling quietly along the hallway, hoping Rosalie would not notice my sudden presence and demand I came and helped her prep the food. From the noise in the kitchen, she had already succeeded in gathering helpers. With less than an hour until her human arrived, her desire for absolute perfection had reached its peak.

I would rather try and remain separate from anything human related… food and other. I had quite enough of that at school.

I wrapped my knuckles lightly on the already ajar door - a strangely rather pointless custom – and went in regardless. But was rather surprised to find Carlisle was not sitting at his desk when I entered, and there were no signs of the usual mountain of paperwork that seemed to always accumulate wherever he went.

"It's very tidy in here," I commented, jostling the clunky box underarm. "Even more than usual."

"I've finally had the time to file away the growing piles of paper," he said, gesturing to the immaculate paper free desk. "They were growing rather precarious in height."

"We wondered if you were building a fort, or some kind of nest," I replied, catching the Volturi portrait out of the corner of my eye.

"I'll leave the fort making to Emmett," he chuckled. "But in the meantime... what can I help you with, Isabella?"

I fixed him with a wiry smile, "You heard our argument?"

He nodded his head, "I'm afraid I did."

"As did most the house," I stated, stemming any apology that could fall out of his mouth. "Sorry for being so loud. We just came to blows over this," - I took the box from under my arm, gripping it with both hands and shaking it quite violently - "this stupid cloak. Edward doesn't want me to keep it, and I don't know what to do with it. I'm not sure if I should just discard it... that's not exactly great for relations between ourselves and the Volturi?"

He stopped my violent shaking of the box, placing one hand on top and one on the bottom. "Why don't you let me keep hold of this, just until you have made up your mind? I'll be the first to admit when it comes to gifts from Aro," - he nodded towards the painting - "some deliberation is usually required. I have kept hold of the painting because of diplomatic relations, I'd much rather look upon landscape or something a little… well, prettier."

I removed my hands from the box, allowing Carlisle to take it. "I don't ever wish to use it, or even look at it. But if keeping it means the illusion of our alliance remains intact… then I guess I should go ahead and keep it."

"The decision is completely up to you," he said. "While some may not agree, they must support whichever decision you make."

"That is very diplomatic, whether it will come to fruition is another matter completely," I commented, getting distracted by the commotion downstairs. "They will have to like it, or lump it."

"Indeed, although some may be rather unwilling to go down without at least saying their piece," Carlisle replied, wincing as there came a loud smash from the kitchen, followed by Rosalie's yells of frustration and Esme trying to fruitlessly calm down the situation. "I think that is our cue to go down and lend a hand."

"Oh, and I had been doing so well to avoid the situation," I said.

"You were bound to get roped in eventually," he responded with a shrug of his shoulders. "May as well appear helpful now, saves the hassle later on."

"Carlisle, how crafty you are."

"I would say it comes along with age," he began, holding open the door as we made our way towards the kitchen war zone. "But I have learnt most of my craftiness from the members of this family."

"That is our gift to you, Carlisle."

"And I thank you all," he jested, deciding to take the stairs at a leisurely human pace. "But before I forget, with all the commotion that is about to be unleashed on us; rather than keep the cloak here, would you rather I move it into storage? Perhaps it can appease both opinions?"

"You mean try to subdue our argument?" I acknowledged quietly, lingering on the stairs behind him. "Whether it will work is yet to be seen, but having it out of the house would probably be best. Aro will just have to be grateful I kept the thing."

"I'll have it sent to the storage units, then," he responded.

While I had finally made a decision - a suddenly very hasty one - and a compromise of having it shipped away, it still did not seem like a proper resolution. But maybe it was just one of those situations that couldn't be resolved completely… easily, or without someone being put out by the result.

At least one of those persons was currently too distracted by her upcoming _dinner date _to care about anything else; she was practically tearing around the kitchen, checking the bounty of ingredients multiple times. If possible, I would say Rosalie almost appeared to be nervous.

"She still hasn't cancelled," came Rosalie's declaration, as Esme finally maneuvered her into a kitchen chair. "Isn't it too dangerous for humans to be out in this weather. They're so pathetically fragile."

"Roads have all been gritted," I stated, trying my best not to aggravate her anymore. "And most of them cleared."

She let out an angry huff, "I hate school, none of this would of happened if we'd just stayed at home. Who thought going to school was a good idea?"

"It's going to be alright," Esme tried to placate. "You all do so well at school, why should this be any different?"

"If anyone ever suggests doing an external group project again, I'm going to _pull a Bella… _refuse to do it and then sweet talk the Principal into having things my own way," she responded, loudly twanging a tin can pull tab. "Or drop out of school."

I made no comment in response to the slight. Just rolled my eyes and allowed her to continue complaining about the situation.

Edward was not present in the room, he and Emmett had gone outside to shovel the driveway. Something that, for the moment, I was slightly relieved about. Being able to calm down after an argument always seemed to aid a favorable outcome, trying to resolve it too quickly usually preceded another.

But however abhorrent my day had turn out to be, Rosalie's was about to get so much worse. Shortly after Alice and Jasper had returned from their hunt, the human girl arrived.

She had been driven to the house by an older woman, whom I presumed was her mother. The mother did not depart from their rather dilapidated station wagon; not even when Carlisle and Esme came to greet them at the door, just watched to daughter walk towards the house and drove away.

Peggy - for that was the human girl's name - did not seem at all perturbed by the rather sudden departure of her mother. Merely waved her away with a smile.

With a prime view from the living room window, I was able to consider the human without her notice… being exceedingly nosy on my part. She was quite a tall girl, a good several inches on my height, with a square build. Her greeting towards Carlisle and Esme was polite, and she did well to hide any reservations she had about entering a house full of vampires… but that could have just been Jasper at work.

The moment she crossed the threshold was a strange one, all too suddenly there was an audibly loud heartbeat. Even with the television on, it could still be heard above the commotion and laughter of the sitcom. My senses were suddenly aware of every beat, the whooshing of blood, her breathing. It was an odd sensation.

"I like her sweater," Alice said from beside me. "I've wanted one like that for ages, just without the frilly collar."

"She looks nice," I replied off handily.

"Is she nervous, Jazz?" Alice questioned.

"Yes, more so now she's with Rosalie," he responded, having distracted himself with a game of solitaire.

"Yeah, but that's to be expected," I said, sitting down to watch another rerun of _I Love Lucy._ "Rosalie has that effect on people."

"It's strange hearing a heartbeat in the house," Alice said quietly, having come to sit alongside Jasper. Perhaps sitting a little too close, but he didn't seem to mind. "Is it this loud at school?"

"Sometimes, but there are so many humans, their heart beats become almost background noise," I responded, tossing my legs over the arm of the chair. "There are too many distractions with large groups. It's worse when you're one-to-one, it's easier to become consumed with the lust. Easier to imagine things, for your mind to wander."

"Understandable," Jasper replied. "Controlling the direction of your thoughts can be difficult, especially when a successful hunt is plausible."

"School isn't too bad," I told him. "I mean, the lessons, rules, and other students are terrible. But honestly the smell of cafeteria food will knock the blood lust right out of you. You're too busy trying to not breathe in the stench to actually notice the scent of blood."

"You are really selling this to me, Isabella," he chuckled.

He may well have laughed, but soon enough he got his first experience of real human living. Rosalie and Peggy began their project, and thusly the house filled with the stench of cooking food. It was not just the one course we had to contend with, but a full three course dinner. I was inertly thankful not to be within that kitchen, the smell from the living room was quite enough.

Emmett and Edward did eventually join us. The former soon went back outside because of the smell, off to fix his snowman that Edward had dismantled.

"It's amazing how agreeable Rosalie can be when she's forced," Jasper said, having begun a rather intense game of cards with Alice - who kept trying to look at his hand.

"And with a little help from you," Edward said slyly.

"I don't know what you mean," Jasper replied coolly, shuffling his hand of cards with ease.

"Please, I haven't seen her this agreeable since she got the Porsche," he said.

"At least everything is going well," Alice said, trying to covertly look at Jasper's cards. "I tried to force a vision, but only managed to get next week's weather… it's going to snow again, just so you're aware. I'd rather know the outcome of today, that would have been nice, but I suppose I gotta take what I get."

"At least we know it's going to snow next week," I tried. "That's useful. Could mean a snow day. Fingers crossed for that."

Alice may have had the low down on next week's weather, but her strangely selective visions were unable to predict the clumsiness of a human. From the kitchen there came a deafening pitched squeal, quickly followed by Rosalie cursing, and something metallic clanking to the floor. The human girl was suddenly breathing heavily, her heart beat pumping manically.

Peggy was systematically apologising over Rosalie's tight declarations that everything was alright. "Really, it's fine," she said, managing to control her desire to snap a retort. "No damage done."

"B-But it was hot," Peggy responded, the pitch of her voice returning to normal - undoubtedly the effect of Jasper. "It burnt my fingers… it must have scalded your hands!"

"No, really I'm fine," Rosalie tried again.

"You have to run them under the cold tap," Peggy insisted. "They'll blister otherwise."

There was some small commotion, where Rosalie once again tried to insist she was unhurt, but from the sounds of it the human was rather authoritarian under pressure. "Your hands?" Peggy suddenly questioned in a bewildered tone. "They're really cold?"

"Jasper," Edward murmured, suddenly nodding his head towards the unfolding crisis. "Can I borrow you a moment?"

…..

_A/N: Thank you once again for being so patient with this chapter, hope you enjoy. And please do leave some feedback. _


	106. Chapter 105: Resolution

_Hello, all! My apologies about the wait for this one, I'm afraid life really got in the way. I've had housing issues, alongside a host of other annoyances. So thank you all for your patience, you guys are so great. I'm definitely not giving up on this story, it has been too long, and such a labour of love, it will have an ending. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thank you so much for the reviews. Delighted to see your name appearing once again. Glad to know you are still enjoying the story, really hope that continues. Sorry about the wait._

_angelari7: Sometimes it really is the simplest of decisions that prove to be the best - or just ask Carlisle - he always seems to know what to do. Thank you so much for the review, and adding me to the community. You have such a great selection of stories. Sorry for the wait between chapters._

_viola1701e: The image of Rosalie pushing someone into the oven… how very Sweeny Todd. A waltz into the oven. Let's hope it doesn't quite come to that. Thanks for the review. _

_LeLe1103: I am so in awe of your review. Thank you so much for not only spending your time reading this story in such a small time period, but the great comments you have given me. I'm so happy you like my take on the characters. Rosalie and Tanya are such great characters to write, developing their personalities has been so much fun. I do have plans for Tanya… but I'm keeping them hush hush. _

_I'm glad you mentioned Alice. She has been one of the hardest characters to write. It's taken me quite a while to understand her visions. I didn't want her to have all the answers, there needs to be a struggle. There is a bit of an explanation in this chapter; so I hope that answers some of your questions for the moment. _

_I really love writing the flashbacks. The history is so fascinating. I didn't want Bella's backstory to remain completely blank - even if she has no memories. It also allowed me to re-introduce George, which is key for the upcoming events. _

_Thanks once again for your review. I'm sorry it has taken so long for me to get this one out. _

_DisneyDancer: Thank you so much for your review, and taking the time to read this story. I'm sure there will be other chances to enjoy Christmas with the Denali's. It won't be too long until George and Elias make an appearance. _

_Eyes of the Past: Wow, thank you so much for such a great review, and thanks for spending time reading the story. I've imagined Bella going to see one of the Titanic movies… it would be an interesting scene to write. I've got a plan for Tanya, it's not set in stone yet so I can't indulge. The same goes for Alice, I do have a plan… but sometimes my writing takes it off on another tangent. Thanks once again for the review and sorry about the wait between this and the last. _

_justagirlwhodreams: Thank you so much for the review and for following this story for so long. I'm glad you hear you're enjoying it, hope you continues to. Sorry for the delay between chapters. _

_reader346: Sorry about the delay and thank you for your concern. I'm thankfully not sick. My housemates and I were evicted from our house, so in-between having to get legal advice we've been looking for somewhere to live… it's a bit crappy at the moment. I'm really happy to finally have this chapter out, hope you enjoy! Thanks once again for the encouragement. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the right to The Twilight Saga._

* * *

><p><span>Chapter One Hundred and Five: Resolution<span>

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...

..

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Jasper's hand of cards slid across the coffee table, fanning out in a haphazard mess as he tossed them to one side. He was onto his feet in one fluid motion, as the two of them left the room with adept haste. Leaving Alice and I to exchange concerned glances in their wake.

But she was up before I, sticking solidly to the door frame in the hopes of viewing the commotion without getting in the way. Once I had untangled my legs from the armchair, I soon followed on behind her, sticking my head out of the living room threshold, hoping to discover exactly what was happening.

"It's fine," Rosalie said, trying to brush off the statement, yet the stress was audible in her voice. "I have poor circulation in my hands."

"Really..?" Peggy questioned, she did not sound completely convinced by Rosalie's quick lie. "My dad has bad circulation in his hands and feet… your hands are really very cold."

Jasper had not entered the kitchen, but was stood just outside, listening cautiously to the conversation and undoubtedly doing his best to calm the situation.

"Well, what do you expect?" Rosalie snipped. "It's the middle of winter; my hands always get worse during the winter."

"Doesn't your hand hurt? You managed to catch the tray with one hand, surely it must hurt?" The human was far too perceptive for her own good.

"What's all the yelling about?" Edward interrupted, entering the room in the most casual manner. "Why is dinner on the floor?"

He was closely followed by Carlisle - whose entrance was timed to perfection - appearing rightly concerned by the commotion, ever so slightly ruffled. "Everyone alright?"

"There was a little accident-" Rosalie began.

"It's all my fault," Peggy interrupted, sounding a good deal sorry. "I thought the tray had cooled down enough to pick up, but it was still hot and I dropped it. Rosalie managed to catch it before it hit my feet… she must have burnt her hand. You should take a look."

"I'm fine," Rosalie protested through her teeth.

"I'm surprised you even felt it, Rosalie," Edward said. "You and your asbestos hands."

"Well, regardless, let me take a look anyway," Carlisle replied. She must have allowed him to take a look, because there lingered a moment of silence.

Alice and I exchanged looks, hoping more than anything that she wasn't too astute, or Jasper could work some magic and force her to believe the story we were spinning. "They seem perfectly fine. But if you do feel any pain you should run it under the tap. Or put a cold compress on it… just be mindful of your circulation." He gave a very customary diagnosis, cleverly joining in with our lies. "I think your asbestos hands have saved the day, Rosalie."

"_Fantastic_," she replied dryly.

"Did you hurt yourself, Peggy?" Carlisle queried, turning his attention to the only person in the room who could suffer a cooking related accident.

"Only a little," she said quickly. "I dropped it so quickly; it hardly had time to burn me."

"Nonetheless, let me grab you an ice pack from the freezer," he said.

She happily agreed, before turning back to Rosalie and apologising once again. This was waved away, as she attempted to turn the human's attention back on the cooking of their three course meal. While everything seemed to be back on plan, neither Alice nor I possessed the ability to read minds, so we lingered a little longer by the doorway. Hoping that the human had been completely convinced by our lies.

Edward and Jasper did not return, leaving us to assume either a little more supervision was required, or perhaps the human needed to be further persuaded. Regardless, she wouldn't be leaving the house alive unless she completely believed.

"For a moment there, I thought we were going to have to kill her," Alice said offhandedly, looking incredibly innocent for such a dark remark.

"I think Jasper had a good hand in that," I told her, returning to the armchair I had so hastily vacated. "Carlisle and Edward too. Let's just hope she keeps her mouth shut, I'd rather not have another dead human on my conscience."

Alice hummed out her agreement as she stepped away from the doorway, falling over the back of the sofa and landing gracefully on the cushions. "It's so nice when things actually go to plan," she commented, stretching lazily into the upholstery. "I wish that would happen all the time."

"Don't count your chickens. It could still all go wrong," I replied, fruitlessly trying to change the television station with our less than stellar remote. "It usually does… and don't you just love being in a state of panic?"

She grinned against the cushion in her arms; flexing and straightening her toes against the arm of the chair. "Do you have plans tonight?" Came her sudden questioned.

"Plans?" I reiterated, briefly considering a conversation that had occurred earlier in the day. "Doubtful. Edward and I are hardly in the right… mood for our usual Saturday date. So other than wasting the day watching re-runs, I'm free."

"We should go do something," she said, twisting around to face me. "Let's go into Plattsburgh."

"And what shall we do when we get to Plattsburgh?" I questioned.

"I don't know," she responded, her shrug virtually lost in her lying down position. "We could do anything - go to the cinema, the theatre… taverns, bars."

"Really? A bar? I never quite pegged you for a bar dweller, if I'm honest," I told her, considering her excitable smile and pink dress as somewhat uncouth for such an excursion. "Have you ever been in a bar?"

"Yes," she stated quickly. "Well, not quite a bar, more a tavern… or a diner."

"The one in Philadelphia?" I questioned, unable to hide a smile. Picturing Alice in a bar was somewhat difficult; she didn't exactly look like the sort to frequent some seedy establishment - at least not in her current pretty outfit.

"Guess I've never actually been in a bar," she summed, before suddenly lurching upright and swinging her legs underneath her. "But that makes it even better. We should go! It'll be so much fun."

"Alright," I agreed. "But any reason for this sudden interest in going out? Not that I don't like going out-"

"That's the point," she interrupted. "When was the last time we went out and did something fun? It's been ages since I've been out on a girly excursion. Don't get me wrong, I love spending time with the boys-"

"You don't have to explain yourself," I said. "Having some girls-only-time is a complete necessity. Boys are a pain."

She laughed aloud, but quickly silenced it in the fabric of the cushion. "Do you think Rosalie and Esme will come?"

"If Rosalie manages to make it through today without killing her human, I bet she'd be up for it. Esme will come… although, a prior warning, she's surprisingly good at pool. Don't let her fool you with her innocent act, she's hustled most of us out of money. Emmett especially, he always thinks double or nothing is a good idea. Last time we played he lost well over a hundred through stupid bets.

"Sounds just like Emmett," she said. "He owes be money, after betting against my vision."

"Stupid bets personified," I replied, rolling my eyes at his idiocy. "What did he try and bet against?"

"Baseball. I managed to force a vision of the outcome, so he decided to bet against it," she reiterated.

"Force a vision?" I questioned, having heard the remark tossed about before. "How does that work?"

"Well… it doesn't really," she said, twisting a lock of her short hair around her finger. "Most of the time I can't see anything, even if I want to see the outcome. I've just grown used to dealing with them coming automatically. But a handful of times I've focused hard on something and gotten a result. Not on anything substantial, though."

"It's a start," I said encouragingly. "You told me your visions our based on decisions, if just one of those decisions changes… it most probably forges another outcome. Even a simple sporting game hinges on the decisions made by the players… it may be difficult to force a vision when the outcome depends on so many factors. I think your vision was a lot more substantial than you give it credit for. Especially when the outcome you predicted was correct. You rightly called every decision made by the players."

"Yeah," she said, contemplating my ramblings. "I guess that's kind of true. Then why can't I force a vision of simpler things? Like events involving just one person making a decision?"

"Honestly, I have no idea," I said, throwing her an apologetic smile. "Maybe… decisions are more complex than we think, non-linear. They could be effected by other external factors… often are. So you may have to predict natural occurrences… unseen instances that may or may not happen-"

"Oh my goodness," she complained loudly, throwing herself down on the sofa. "It's all too horrid."

"Sorry, I'm just throwing out hypothetical things," I admitted, stretching my arms and legs outwards over the arms of the chair. "Having premonitions is a complex affair."

"I'm glad you said that," she commented, her voice muffled by the cushion that remained in her arms. "These extra gifts never come with a instruction manual."

"Amen," I chortled. "I am so very, very clueless about mine. Yet, it continues to protect me without me doing anything."

"Mine too," she agreed. "Do you think it's somehow because we don't have human memories? I mean, Jasper and Edward have a pretty good hold of theirs and they have memories."

"Who knows? Carlisle thinks they are enhanced traits we have carried over from our human lives; maybe not having human memories somehow influences it. But that's a wild guess."

"I always wondered about that theory," she commented, fingering the tasselled fringe along the arm of the sofa. "How can visions be an enhanced trait? Does that mean I could foresee things as a human? Or maybe it's more figuratively."

"I would seriously doubt the likeliness of foresight… but I've been dead for nearly fifty years. Who's to say anything is impossible. Maybe you did have visions as a human."

"Maybe," she agreed, her arm now hanging limply from the sofa as she jingled her bracelets. "Although, that does make me wonder if I could have foreseen my own change… how weird would that have been?"

"Exceedingly… weird, and more than likely, really horrible," I responded, turning up my lip at the very thought. "But we can speculate all we like… we'll probably never know."

Alice nodded in agreement, but did not appear disappointed by the statement; she already knew the like hood of discovering her human memories. It was impossible to be too disheartened by something you had always known to be futile.

And even if you were a little distressed, with episodes of I Love Lucy and Mister Ed on repeat, that didn't last long.

In-between watching a stupid amount of television - and slowly becoming more and more encompassed within the depths of plush sofas - we were forced once again to deal with the smell of cooking food. It wasn't so bad at first, but once the raw ingredients began to cook, the scent wafted heavily. Promising to linger around the house for as long as possible.

No extremities were burnt and no mention was given to previous burnings. But still Edward and Jasper never returned, continuing to keep an eye on a possibly unconvinced or a very perceptive human.

The food was thusly plated, a pointless write-up was done, and Rosalie managed to keep her aggravated grumbles to a minimum. Her delight did, however improve; as it began to get prematurely dark outside, signalling it was time for the human to finally leave. With the utmost agreeableness she partook in small talk - keenly using the last of the time to make an agreeable impression.

With an almost audible sigh of relief, the human departed back into the care of her mother at bang on six o'clock. Jumping into the same dilapidated station wagon, arms full of food that Rosalie had managed to successfully palm off.

The door closed with a delicate click of the latch, as the car drove off down the drive. "Someone please tell me she fucking believed all that bullshit," came Rosalie's immediate demands, completely ignoring are usual censored cussing in the house.

"Just about," Edward replied tersely.

"Quite perceptive," Jasper commented in response. "Not easy to bend her whim. You'll have to keep an eye on her; she may try and catch you out."

She grumbled out some more profanities. "Regardless, thank you both for helping," she said quietly. "I'd most probably have snapped her neck if she'd continued to go on about the burn."

A heartfelt thanks from Rosalie was somewhat of a rare occurrence, so much so, that Edward and Jasper could only mutter out rather surprised responses.

"Turns out you two are good for something," she then replied, slightly spoiling the thanks. But they were just lucky to get one at all.

"Rosalie, you up for a night out?" I called into the hall. "Alice is a bar virgin. This cannot remain so."

* * *

><p>Having thrown open the closet doors with a determination to find something suitable, it only took a mere second to realise the abundance of thick winter wear was not quite what I was after. But not one to give up quite so easily on a fashion related issue; I began to hunt for something else.<p>

With a splayed hand, I pushed my clothes across the rail, forcing them to one side and squashing them into Edwards. Making enough room for me to squeeze into the back of the closet, and amongst the boxes that lived in the dusty, darkness. It was a tiny space, only just wide enough to fit storage boxes… and myself.

There was no Narnia to be found, but I did unearth a box that looked promising. Crammed full of garments more shiny and floaty in nature, ideal for a night out.

But as I climbed out of the closet - box tucked underarm - I came across a new figure in the room. Sitting on the end of the bed, unperturbed by my appearance from the closet.

I bypassed him with a silent ease, dumping the box on the bed behind him, before sorting through the layers of fabric and tissue paper. Tossing the undesirable garments to one side, while making a pile of those that were suitable.

"You made a decision, then. About the cloak," Edward said after a lingering silence.

"Obviously," I responded, holding up a dress against my body in consideration. "You made your own opinion known. Strongly. I can hardly ignore that… no matter how much I want to."

"It's going into storage," he stated.

"Yeah," I declared simply, impertinently determined to be awkward in conversation.

"I'm glad."

"_Fantastic_."

He may have had his back to me, but I could practically see the scowl on his face - yet his annoyance at my adherent sarcasm was amusing. It was petty, perhaps. But I couldn't stop myself from wanting to punish him a little.

"Your contempt is always much more amusing when it's not being directed at me," he responded.

"Contempt," I repeated, the word getting muffled as I took off my blouse over my head. "I don't know what you mean.

He suddenly sat back on the bed, leaning on his elbows. The aggravation that I was so sure he had been sporting was suddenly gone, replaced with a humorous smirk. One that only promised misfortune on my part. "Your hair is really messy," were the first words from his mouth. My attempts to annoy him had been figured out, and met with an immediate rebuttal.

"Get lost," I mumbled, running my hands through my hair, and flattening out the mussiness.

"Are we done yet?" He questioned, examining the pile of discarded dresses near his arm. "Why aren't you wearing this one? I like this one."

"Because I don't want to wear it," I responded, pulling on my chosen dress and zipping it up. "I'm wearing this one instead." Groping my hair for any pins that had become lost. "And I don't know what you mean. Done what yet?"

"Are we done having an argument?" he said casually.

"We're not having an argument," I replied smartly, grabbing for a hair brush. "We've already had one."

"And now?"

"Now… I'm getting ready to go out. But I have no idea what you're doing," I said.

"I thought we had plans?" He questioned.

I twisted my hair upwards into some half up-do, sticking in a handful of pins that would assure me it would stay styled during the evening. "Well, we never decided on anything… and then other plans were made."

My answer did not seem to please him, his attempts to lighten the conversation had failed and he let out an aggravated sigh. "You really know how to make things difficult," came his exasperated comment.

"You sound surprised," I responded boldly, facing him properly for the first time. "Haven't I always been a difficult one? Especially considering the circumstances."

"And what would those be?" He queried, sitting up-right and watching me selecting my shoes from the closet.

I could not help but roll my eyes at him. "Considering you were a jerk. You started an unneeded argument."

"Alright," he began. "Perhaps my tactics were a little rash-"

"More like pig-headedness."

"But at least you made a decision… finally," he said.

"A decision you rushed me into… I had to make it because you were acting like an idiot," I replied quickly, half shaking my shoes at him.

"You still made a decision," he said, somewhat unbothered by my own accusations. "How long would it have taken otherwise? It was just sitting there under the vanity."

"I would have made a decision," I said defensively. "I was taking the time to consider."

"And now you don't need to," he said simply. "It's done. Decision made. The whole thing has been resolved."

"How _brilliant_," I muttered in return, slipping on my shoes before I had a chance to launch them towards him. "I'm _glad_ you've been able to make that decision all by yourself." With quick, flustered hand movements, I brushed down the front of my dress, removing invisible lint. "Because apparently I'm not capable."

"I never said that," he responded with a shake of his head.

"Well, it seems that way," I responded sharply, flicking my hair behind me in a very Rosalie-esque manner.

He sighed out a ragged breath, clenching his jaw ever so slightly. "Can we call a truce? I'm getting tired of this stupid argument."

"Do as you please," came my tartly response. "I'm going out."

I practically pranced across the room, feeling very much high and mighty. Having gotten in one last scathing remark. But Edward was not one to merely sit back and accept my bitterly made comments. "Fine," he said, rising from his seat on the bed. "I will do as I please. If you're not willing to sort this out here, I will just have to come with you."

I did not even make it across the threshold, but stopped dead, summarising his words in my head. "You can't," I finally replied with a scowl. "You're not invited."

"I don't need an invite," he educated smartly. "It's a bar."

"I won't talk to you," I said quickly.

"That's fine. I'll just stay close," he replied without pause, straightening out his rumpled shirt. "And I'm sure Alice and Esme won't mind."

I did not miss how Rosalie had been conveniently left out. Having managed to successfully survive entertaining a human for the afternoon, making small talk, and having to eat an unsavoury amount of food, Rosalie was rather looking forward to a night out of the house.

I too wanted to enjoy a night out. Without arguments. Or husbands lingering around. "Fine," I bit out, turning around in a flourish of chiffon. "Let's sort this out."

"About time," he muttered.

"Do you want to start another argument?" I responded, folding my arms across my chest. "Because you're half way there already."

"I'd rather we resolved one before starting another," he said.

"Alright," I mused sardonically. "Let's resolve this."

"You don't seem to… want to resolve it," he replied with a frown. "You've got your angry face on."

I tried to lessen the frown of my brows, relax the turn-up of my lip, but probably just succeeded in making some kind of twisted expression. "I do want to resolve it," I said, trying to keep the slight sourness from my tone.

"Alright," he responded. "Let's try this again… I'll apologise for clumsily bringing up such an uneasy subject. It could have used more dexterity… a lot more."

I did not scoff, no matter how much I wanted to. For there were a hundred different words I could have used to replace the word clumsy - but for the sake of resolving this lingering argument, I would keep my mouth resolutely shut. "It's fine," came my initial reply. "I forgive your lack of dexterity… I know… you just wanted to have the situation dealt with. I'm sorry… it's taken me so long to make a decision."

"You don't have to apologise for that," he said instantly, shaking his head ever so slightly.

"I don't… understand," I told him plainly, unable to stop the bluntness of the statement. "Isn't that what this whole," - I waved my hands around- "argument has been about? Or have I completely missed the point?"

"I just wanted you to make a decision," he said honestly, his face contorting into a mild frown as he seemed to consider his own words. "I didn't want you to keep ignoring it."

"I wasn't ignoring it," I protested weakly. "Just… didn't know what to do with it. Everyone seemed to have their own opinion… I didn't know what was best."

"We could have talked about it.."

"Yeah… but you were the first to make up your mind," I retorted. "You wanted rid of it from day one. I didn't think you'd want to discuss other possibilities."

He remained quiet for a moment, allowing a silence to settle between us, only permeated by the sound of the heating pipes above our heads. He took a breath as they rattled against the floor boards. "I'm sorry-"

"No, no, it's fine, " I said, dismissing another apology with a flick of my hand. "It's like you said, decision made… it's going into storage and as far as I'm concerned it ceases to exist. Since it arrived, it's been nothing but a pain in the ass. Causing trouble. But I suppose that has always been a praiseworthy skill of the Volturi."

He gave a rueful grin, which twitched into a half smile. "I suppose Aro will be disappointed to learn you will not be wearing it."

"I don't plan on allowing him to find out," I stated firmly, twisting a loose strand of hair around my finger. "But should it happen… I hope he wallows in disappointment. Or cries… I'd really like to see Aro cry."

"Something we can whole heartedly agree on," Edward said. "Although, I would imagine it would be rather unnerving-"

"Well, tearless crying… sobbing, isn't the most attractive of emotions. Add that to a maniacal, decrepit, old tyrant… sounds like a hoot," I replied, eyeing the twist of hair between my fingers. "It's amazing just how much better I feel when bad mouthing Aro. I hope his ears are burning."

"Seeing as we have strayed from the original conversation," he interjected with a rather nonsensical hand gesture. "Does this mean everything has been resolved?"

"First, a little trash talk never did any harm - I learnt that from Rosalie, and she's all knowing about those types of things," I countered, copying his gesture. "But I think we've run out of things to argue about. Guess that means we're done."

"Good," he replied with an exhale. "Feels like we've been discussing the cloak issue for ages-" His comment tailed off to a pause; as we both became distracted by the sound of decisive footprints approaching our room.

"Bella," came Rosalie's demanding call, her knuckles making one single, loud knock against our door. "Are you both done having a tiff? Or making up… It doesn't matter either way. Plans have changed."

I considered replying through the door, but her sharp knuckles struck again. "Hello?" She called impatiently.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," I replied, sharing a look of incredulity with Edward. The standard look when it came to the actions of others within this family. "What's changed?" I questioned, as I opened the door to her impatient face.

Instead of replying she gave me the once over, tilting her head in contemplation like she always did when there was judgement to be made. "Not seen that dress for a while."

"I'm being frugal. No point buying something new, when I've got perfectly good clothes in my closet," I responded.

She scoffed. "You, _frugal?_ That's a new one. I've never known you to-"

"New plan?" I interrupted her.

"How'd he persuade you to let him go?" Edward questioned, standing behind me in the doorway. But Rosalie didn't even need to verbally respond, Edward easily got his answer. "The washing up.

"Care to share?" I queried, looking between them for any kind of answer.

"Emmett's managed to wrangle himself an invite to your girls only outing," Edward relayed, appearing artfully smug in the light of Rosalie's sour expression.

"Seriously?" I questioned her. "I thought you were dead set on it just being us… no guys."

She shrugged. "The more the merrier, right. And if it means I don't have to wash the pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen… then all the better."

"Seeing as this outing is no longer exclusive…" Edward mused aloud, sounding impossibly more smug. "Guess I better find something to wear."

"This has changed from a girl's only night, into a family outing," I muttered, tracing my fingers along the grains of the doorframe.

"Boys aren't all bad," Rosalie commented with fluid ease, never one to mind offending outright. "Esme's going to need someone to hustle out of money. And they do keep the riff-raff away."

"And do the washing up," I quipped.

"Thanks," Edward replied sarcastically. "I'm glad we're of such use to you."

"Nothing personal," I grinned, reaching up to pinch his cheek in retaliation. "In fact, it's more a compliment… except for the part about being hustled out of money. You're a great help when it comes to keeping the humans away… and also miscellaneous household chores. Also, reaching for things on high shelves."

"Nice save," he replied, grabbing a hold of my hand to stop my assault on his cheek.

"That's my job," I responded. "Just making sure your feelings don't get hurt."

"How _adorable,_" Rosalie interjected, the pull of her face indicated she thought quite the opposite. "Just to let you know we're leaving at ten. Make sure you're ready. If not, we'll leave without you. Also, Bella, I'm borrowing your black coat… the one with the fur collar."

She departed before I could agree or protest to anything, off to get ready, or steal my coat before I could hide it from her. "Guess we don't have much of a choice… family outing it is then," I mused.

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><p><em>AN: Thanks once again for all the great reviews I got on the last chapter. I'm more than ready to move onto the next stage of the story. Having exhausted this portion and resolved the issues that needed to be._

_I can't give a definite deadline for the next update, it will depend upon my workload. But I'm confident it won't be as long as the last. Thanks to everyone for being patient for this update. I hope you enjoyed the chapter._


	107. Chapter 106: Biloxi

_A/N: Hey, all. Thanks for the continuing patience. Hope you enjoy this chapter. _

_viola1701e: Somehow I don't think Jasper and Edward are quite so… virginal. One has a rather interesting past, while the other is married to Bella. Thanks for the review and hope you enjoy the chapter. _

_Matthias Stormcrow: Thank you for the review. _

_justagirlwhodreams: Yay, I finally posted again! I swear it's getting harder and harder to update with the amount of Uni work I'm swamped under. Bella's past… well, I'll not give it away, but if my plans go accordingly, she will find out about her past. And we're very close to the beginning of that story line. I do like a little bit of bickering between Bella and Edward, they can't be cutesy all the time. No matter how much I like that also. Thank you for the review. Hope you enjoy the chapter._

_Holidai: Hello. Thank you so much for finding the time to review. I appreciate it so very much. I'm rather swamped myself, so finding time to write is becoming so hard. I wanted to include some human related difficulties, certain situations I always imagined happening. Glad to hear you enjoyed. _

_angelari7: Thank you for the review, hope you enjoy this chapter. _

_Guest: Thank you nonny. You're in luck. Not only am I updating, but I'm moving on too. _

_reader346: I'm so sorry about the wait. Thanks for the prompt. _

_LeLe1103: So glad you enjoyed the previous chapter, hope you will enjoy this one too. I kind of liked Peggy, she was just a very normal person, didn't really want to kill her off. Thank you for the review and the kind words of encouragement, they really helped! _

_NellieWolf123: Thank you very much for the great review! You are far too kind. Hope you continue to enjoy. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter One Hundred and Six: Biloxi<span>

October 31st, 2011

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It had begun some months ago. Back at the very start of the year, after we had returned from celebrating Christmas with the Denali's. There had been no pretense, nothing to signal these turns of events would come to pass. Just a simple flicker of something that seemed relatively unimportant. She never queried it and so we never did.

It began with the shuffling of documents - papers - official looking, but yellowed and worn along the edges. She was unable to make out any of the content; the typed letters were not visible within the vision. They remained as much a secret as the hands that shuffled each document… but it was of little importance. An ambiguous vision did not require much notice or worry.

Alice had always gotten seemingly random flashes of people, places, events. Sometimes they had effects on later visions, aiding us along with our lives. Other times they flittered away, to be replaced with another decision. She always described them as rapid flickers, crossing her eyes like an old moving picture show.

Nothing else came in the way of premonitions for the remainder of January; and we returned to the delights of Sophomore year. AP calculus, bitter weather, and equally bitter students longing to be back in the comfort of winter break. And we went about our everyday lives without so much as giving the visions a second thought.

It wasn't until early March that she had another.

The same shuffling of papers. More intently this time. The reader taking more care to read through the typed letters. Alice never got a glimpse of the occupant, only ever able to view their hands. Whether it be the diligent sorting of the papers, or the careful note taking… she only ever saw their hands. Before the vision simply flickered away.

Unlike the previous time, Alice's attention was piqued. Having a fairly firm grasp on forcing an outcome - and usually succeeding - it came as a disappointment when she was rewarded with nothing. She tried several times, concentrating on the papers, on the hands, on the human. But her concentration was fruitless; it bore no result, no matter how hard she tried. Eventually, with no other option…she gave up.

Nothing terrible befell us and it went unmentioned for several months.

In fact, it was almost forgotten. That was until Alice had another vision. Instead of the former unhelpful flickers, she had a concise, lasting premonition. The papers were once again at the forefront; this time the yellowing papers were safely tucked within a binder, held tightly by the same wrinkled hands. And Alice finally came face-to-face with their owner.

She described an elderly woman, small in stature, but rather robust looking. A firm resolve upon her face, as she considered an imposing but rather decrepit building before her.

She said it was an impossibly large build; the front facade somewhat archaic of Victorian architecture. But time had been impossibly unkind to the bricks and mortar. The surfaces within reaching distance had been covered in graffiti, various tags and indistinguishable marks. The windows that had not been boarded up had been smashed clean through, allowing nature to infest its way inwards.

But while concise and longer lasting than all those previous flickers, it faltered and faded too soon. Leaving us with yet more questions.

Alice knew nothing of the human at the center of the visions. Or why this elderly woman's decisions were affecting us and inducing such random premonitions.

And while she may have been able to sketch an accurate depiction of the decrepit building... without a location, it was nigh on impossible to find. We tried to cross reference other buildings, using an estimated build date, trying to find similar architectural styles, looking up hotels, hospitals, penitentiaries. But ultimately we had no success in finding it. Hours of internet searches lead to nothing. Just more ambiguous clues, leading to more dead ends.

Alice's frustration only grew as time passed, and she was forced to wait out another possible vision. Hinging a discovery on a fleeting chance. Her ability to gain the knowledge was out of her grasp, seemingly waiting for the elderly woman to make her next move.

Said woman eventually did.

June had rolled away into the high summer months, which had inadvertently given way to mild September for us in Oregon. Much to my chagrin at the lack of snow.

Instead of tackling the pile of homework we had already been set - the delights of Junior year - or helping the boys clear the drive of fallen leaves, Alice had been aimlessly flicking between online retail shops. Enthralled with picking new additions to her wardrobe, she had not been expecting the vision. Her eyes glazed in one smooth motion and her hands hovered over the computer keyboard.

Both Carlisle and I waited - having grown used to such behavior - simply expected a weather update, or some useful advice on school or work.

We did not expect her to react quite so violently. Standing from her seat so quickly, her laptop slipped cleanly onto the floor with a horrid thud. And before we had chance to query, Alice had already begun her excitable chatter. Speaking so quickly she was barely coherent. The only word I could make out clearly was Biloxi.

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><p>From that point unraveled a strange turn of events. That led us to make a nearly three thousand mile trip to Mississippi.<p>

We may have flown, and it may have been private hire, but that did not make the seven hour trip cooped up within a small space any more enjoyable.

With Emmett's constant need to be hooked up to his game console - beating a high score, and shouting abuse at other game obsessed humans - he seemed to develop withdrawal symptoms.

The plane was somewhat of a last minute booking; we were lucky to have found something available. Therefore, it was smaller than what we usually traveled in. Without the luxuries we usually afforded to. Because of the basics of the plane, Emmett had to make do with whatever game he had downloaded on his phone. He was an utter annoyance.

Jasper was far too busy concentrating on Alice's wavering dips and furrows, and his own control, to aid the rest of us. We were forced to sit through Emmett's competitive riles and moans about hotel Wi-Fi.

The only respite to the madness came with the knowledge we were at least getting to miss school, our return date yet to be confirmed. And perhaps… something interesting could result in this purely maniacal jaunt across the country.

If not, I supposed an abrupt holiday was not something to be scoffed at.

We landed in the late evening; although the sun had gone down the weather was still rather warm… at least in comparison to Oregon in October. I had always preferred my autumns to be much colder; my most revered holiday celebration lead into those that fell in winter. I never did like being this far south.

"Once we get to the hotel… should we go out straight away?" Alice questioned, as we waited for the allocation of our rental cars. Her arm jostling a heavy carryon bag - packing lightly was hardly within her repertoire. "I mean… there are over twenty possible cemeteries."

"Whatever you think is best, Alice," Carlisle replied, handing over our perfectly forged driving licenses and paper work. "We're merely here to aid you."

"True," I agreed, half-distracted by another questioning text from Tanya. "But it would be better to start tomorrow… it being Halloween and all."

"Hard to be inconspicuous, with humans roaming around," Edward muttered, taking our car rental papers from Carlisle. "Especially in church yards."

"That's very true," Carlisle mused, taking the lead as we left the airport terminal in search of the parking lots. "There is always something very attractive about a churchyard on Hallows 'eve. All too many horror stories begin in one."

"You sure you can even go into church yards, Bella?" Rosalie questioned, reading my correspondence with Tanya from over my shoulder. "It being hallowed ground and all."

"You cross the threshold first… and I suppose we'll find out," I jibed back, hiding my cell screen from her prying eyes. She flounced off towards Emmett, not bothering to even acknowledge my reply. With his own cell phone battery now drained, he was far better company, and actually able to partake in real conversations.

His agreeability did not last long, however, transforming into disappointment upon learning our rental cars were nothing terribly special. No Hummers, Jeeps, or other monstrosities. Just two, inconspicuous, black town cars. We didn't need anything to draw attention to ourselves, and two cars would comfortably seat us all. He and Rosalie were to share with Carlisle and Esme. While Edward and I would share with Alice and Jasper.

While I was sure Emmett's endless and bountiful chatter would continue into their car, ours was a somewhat quieter affair, void of the usual fast paced conversation I was used to.

But her apparent unnerve was perhaps to be expected, it had been at her insistence we come here. She had seen the same old woman again, clutching the same papers that had featured in all previous visions, and like before, the woman was in a new location. Ascending the steps of Biloxi City Hall.

As soon as this vision arrived, the next one was merely a day behind it. Pulling Alice into a vision while eating her lunch in the school cafeteria. The old woman was on the move again, this time at a slower, sedate pace. For once the papers were not on display and she became the center of the vision. Walking rather aimlessly through a cemetery, her eyes glancing at the older tombstones. Perhaps looking for something in particular.

For all her apparent destination-less walking, she eventually found it.

A rather small, worn, headstone. Nothing that differentiated it from any other. But the old woman had found what she was looking for.

Yet for Alice the visionary flickers were too fast. Tailing away just as the woman came across the stone. She had no chance to view the carved inscription, or witness anything that came next. Once again we were left with the frustrating disappointment of another conundrum.

Regardless, Alice was determined. She was convinced the cemetery was in Biloxi. That the visions were a sign, were fundamentally important to us. Some in the family may have been a little speculative about her sudden bout of compulsion, a near obsession with finding out why she was getting these visions, but they had never steered us wrong before, and to suddenly challenge their authenticity would have been rather hypocritical.

So… now we were in Biloxi. Ready to begin a hunt across the city and surrounding area for a particular cemetery. We had narrowed down the number; the age of the headstone was a clue as to the possible age of the cemetery - or at least a marker. Now it just came down to finding the right one.

"It looks different from how I expected," Alice mused, her face mere inches from the window. "I'm not sure what I expected… but this isn't it."

"You're not disappointed," Edward commented, glancing back at her through the rear view mirror.

"No," she readily agreed. "In fact, I like it so far. We've never stayed anywhere near the Gulf Coast before. It's very pretty."

As Jasper further defused the nervous apprehension, with small talk about his own memories of Gulf Coast living, I was forced to delve into my purse in search of my abrasively ringing cell. It did not ring with a comical tone, but a boring default one, used only for the purpose of business.

I flicked the screen to my right, allowing Edward to note the caller id - to which he pursed his lips in return. He'd always had a certain distrust for my new purveyor.

"Jenks," I greeted, already picturing the sheen of sweat on the man's forehead, the clammy palms, and nervous tick. Like father, like son. "It's been a while… I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."

The line crackled in my ear. "O-of course not," he began. "I've just had an issue getting the information you wanted."

"Issue?" I repeated. "Does that mean you're going to disappoint me?"

"I'm sorry," he said. "It just wasn't possible. I contacted my… err… contact in the NSA. He said the city hall hasn't completely upgraded its video surveillance. Only the courthouse and customhouse have CCTV connected to a…network. The city record office and archives still run on old tapes. My contact said something about not being able to access the surveillance because they're not on… err… servers."

"Well, that is an issue," I mused, always taking particular enjoyment in making him nervous. "But I guess we can't do anything about it… Now what about the city hall parking lot?"

"I'm afraid it's another… err… issue. There is video surveillance covering the staff parking, but nothing for the general public. Assuming the person you are trying to locate isn't an employee of the city hall… there's no record of parking-"

"What about street surveillance?"

The immediate silence that greeted my question was enough of an answer. "Well…I-I…that would involve me asking my …contact again. He may start to get suspicious…if I continue to question-"

I cut the call on his gibberish. Re-posting the phone back into my purse. "Sorry, Alice. No luck. Not unless you want me to access the street camera servers? But that could take some time."

"It's alright," she assured. "Hopefully we can find out her identity another way. But just in case leave license plate recognition as a backup."

"Whatever you want," I told her. "And Jenks is only a call away if we need his services. Regardless of it being day or night-"

"I don't think you should put so much trust in Jenks," Edward interrupted, his eyes never straying from the road. "He's not as reliable as his father was."

"That's true," I replied. "He's not quite got the same...charms his father had. But one thing he has inherited is the fundamental knowledge that displeasing me is a bad thing."

"That's an understatement," Jasper scoffed from the back seat. "The man radiates nerves through the phone line. He's a little more brass than Jenks Senior, but the fear runs deep. You've successfully scarred two generations, Bella."

"Say all you want, Jazz. Any damage or stress I bring upon their lives is remedied by the large cash sum I pay for their services. Practically put Jenks Junior through college. Highly doubtful their business would have stayed in the black without our kind generosity," I related. "And if it's so awful to have to keep doing my bidding, J Senior should have relayed the memo on to his son...instead I have a second generation of Jenks at my disposal."

"The epitome of human greed," Jasper chuckled. "Money triumphs over any fear, or damages."

"I'm just reaping the benefits," I replied.

"Regardless, just be careful," Edward said, relaying the same advice again. "Seeing as you've never actually visited this Jenks, you've not instilled any physical fear into him. He's only going by what his father has said...he could easily do something stupid."

"Maybe I should pay him a visit then?" I mused, uselessly toying with the cars GPS system. "I was going to wait until J Senior kicked the bucket...less chance of them discussing how I've not aged in fifty or so years. Much easier to pass myself off as my own daughter. But I suppose I could send you guys instead. Alice you could go in my place. Take the boys as your muscle."

"Sounds like we're running some kind of gang," she laughed, leaning forward in her seat to rest her chin on the back of mine. "I could just make sure to keep an eye on Jenks? Wouldn't that be easier?"

"But not half the fun," I gushed. "Thinly veiled threats are the best."

"I would know," Edward said cockily. "I've been on the receiving end of enough of them."

I rolled my eyes in response. "I hardly ever follow through, so count yourself lucky." Giving up uselessly trying to use the crappy GPS and settling for watching Biloxi through the car window. Which incidentally was much more interesting.

"The old buildings are so pretty," Alice said, still resting her chin upon my seat. "I heard so many got damaged or destroyed because of Katrina."

"Biloxi has been fortunate with the rebuild," Jasper said. "Casinos have funded most of it. Guess it's fitting we're staying in one of the hotels."

"Biloxi will be even better off when Emmett gets to the tables," Edward said, smirking at Jasper through the mirror.

"Let's hope we avoid another Salt Lake City episode," Jasper agreed. "I've never seen someone gamble through so much money…his bets were ludicrous."

"Half a million on craps," Edward laughed. "I thought Rosalie was going to kill him."

"He's still on an allowance… getting a set amount each month," came Jaspers unsympathetic reply.

"If he'd learnt to manage his own finances, he wouldn't have to live of an allowance," I added. "At least Rosalie can stop his fancy for buying ridiculous things."

"You'd think that," Jasper drawled, looking down at the screen on his cell phone. "Emmett just continues to buy things…they're equally as ridiculous, but cheaper. Funny thing is he's got his own money… plenty of it. He just doesn't like dealing with bank managers, so he won't open his own account."

"Are you serious?" I called, turning around in my seat to view Jasper. Who only confirmed his statement with a nod. "Is he aware you can open an account online?"

Jasper shrugged. "I assume not."

"I remain constantly surprised Emmett has managed to survive this long," I stated.

"I don't know," Alice mused. "I wouldn't be surprised if he had his own account. He can be crafty when he wants to be… and he does have some good ideas. And seeing as we can't begin the search tonight, we could always go to the casino. Seeing as we've come all this way, with no guarantee of success, may as well have some fun."

"Hey," I scolded, tapping her head in reproach. "You were positive we'd find something before. Where's your faith gone?"

"That was before I got here," she complained, her nose scrunching up discontent. "I didn't realise Biloxi was so big."

"Why would you have the visions, unless there was some degree of success?" Edward said, voicing a logic argument. "You've had no other visions since deciding to come here. Maybe that's because we're in the right place. You've got the clues, it's just a matter of finding it or whom."

"It's a great big enticing mystery," I added. "Somehow those recurring documents, the woman, the creepy building, and the cemetery, are all important. We just need to find out what they have to do with us and how they affect the future. If Edward's logic is right, we will suss it out eventually. Doesn't matter how long that takes...or how much school we have to miss. As long as we get an answer."

"And if Edwards logic isn't right?" she replied rather pessimistically.

"We access the Department of State, try and find this woman via her passport," Jasper said calmly.

"While the idea is solid… can we try and keep it legal," Edward interjected. "At least start with the legal options first, before attempting anything that could get us investigated by the government…again."

"Plus, it would require far too many servers, too many networks, IP addresses…that's a lot of work," I responded, putting my feet up on the dashboard.

"I bet you a phishing email or two would do the trick," Jasper laughed. "Or a good old fashion Trojan. Sometimes it's the easiest ways that produce the best results."

"I appreciate the help anyway," Alice said, stemming another computing related debate between Jasper and I. "Legal or otherwise. But I'm going to keep my fingers crossed about the cemetery…if I was going to make a wrong decision about finding this woman… I have to hope my visions will set me on the right course. So far they haven't deterred me from coming to Biloxi. So that's something, right?"

I really wanted to agree… but her logic made the journey sound even more like a maniacal jaunt across the country. But at least we got to skip school.


	108. Chapter 107: Searching

_A/N: Hello. Thank you all for your ongoing patience with this story. I appreciate all the encouragement I receive. It hasn't been the easiest couple of months. So thanks once again. _

_46 Husbands Later: I'm glad you get the sense of tension; I always seem to doubt whether that comes across very well. Thank you very much for your kind words, they honestly keep me going. I hope you continue to enjoy this story._

_angelari7: Thank you!_

_Matthias Stormcrow: I am delighted to hear it. Thank you. _

_viola1701e: I'm sure you are right; it must be nice to have some excitement, breaks up the monotony of immortal life. Thanks for the review. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span><strong>Chapter One Hundred and Seven: Searching<strong>

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The sun had dipped below the horizon not ten minutes ago, leaving the west a shimmering mirage of mauve and yellow hues, while the east pitched itself into darkness. Finally, after restlessly waiting throughout the unfortunately clear day, sundown had arrived, and we were free to move around the city.

Regardless to the lateness of the day and the absence of the sun, Biloxi was still rather mild – even Chihuahua had colder winters and ground frosts. Thus, the humans were much more willing to brave the outdoors, even at night.

The city center was still busy with pedestrian footfall, the shops open for the approaching holidays, casinos and bars full of people finishing their working day. It was still too early for us to approach the built up areas, so we avoided them all together. Driving out of the large city and north towards the rather rural area of Wiggins.

While Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie had elected to run the distance – allowing them to hunt – the rest of us had once again split between the two cars.

Both groups meeting at roughly the same time on the outskirts of the small city, leaving the cars parked down an isolated track from the main road.

"Turkey's," Emmett exclaimed, as he shook the pine needles from his hair "Bloody loads of them. Making some crazy noises, scaring away all the good stuff. Never seen so many in the same place. I'm not hunting there again."

"I'm…sorry to hear that," Carlisle said, completely unbothered by the frankly bizarre comment. "Has everyone sufficiently hunted?"

The three of them nodded in affirmation, brushing themselves free from all manner of forest littering. Looking all the better for having hunted. Bright eyed and free from the worst of the dark bruises that often accumulated beneath our eyes.

"We're very much willing to follow you, Alice," Carlisle declared, locking his car door with a backward click of his keys.

She shifted slightly in her designer boots, digging the heel into the ground. "I'm not one hundred percent sure what I'm looking for… but I'll know it when I see it. If you can get me there…"

"I think I can do that," Carlisle said, giving her a smile of encouragement. "If not, I can always consult online maps," he gestured to his cell phone.

"Knew you'd come to like them eventually, Carlisle," I teased, allowing Edward to adjust the collar of my coat. "Just of matter of overcoming the intrusiveness of map street view."

"Overcoming, is that even possible?" Edward replied.

"Maybe not," I muttered, taking his offered arm. "But it's pretty neat for scoping out an area."

"True," Carlisle interjected. "It has been a great aid when we were researching our new house and the surrounding area. However, I remain…concerned with the location of _said_ new house being so readily available."

"It's the future," Emmett said matter-of-factly. "Satellites spying on our every move. Making it harder to be all secretive."

"Well, aren't you a delight," Rosalie mumbled. "Putting conspiracy theories aside. Can I suggest you use the maps? The quicker this is over with, the quicker we can get back to the hotel." With that, she promptly sat in the car, a clear indication she would not be joining our trip into Wiggins.

"I'll stay with Rosie," Emmett said, doing well to hide his disappointment over her dismissal. "It would look a little weird if someone stopped…us having two cars and all. Just try not to find anything too exciting, Alice."

"I'll try not to," she replied, giving him a grin. "At least not until you join us again."

"If someone should come along and start asking questions, just move the cars elsewhere. Give us a call," Carlisle stated, tucking his cell phone inside his breast pocket.

With affirmation from Emmett, the rest of us began the walk closer to the center of the city and towards the first of our many destinations. We had to take a slow human pace, unable to cross the distance any quicker because of the exposed roads and random scattering of houses.

It was clear almost immediately that the city was more a town. Containing barely a fraction of the humans in comparison with the larger cities along the gulf coast. Even as we ambled through the more densely populated suburbia, there was not a human to be noted outdoors.

Just an eerie quiet, filled only by the occasional buzz of the cicada or rustle of the wind.

While it made covert travel easier, it did nothing but add to the tension of this jaunt. Continuously wondering just how we had gotten ourselves into this strange situation, and just how reliable Alice's visions were being in guiding us this far from home. So far they had been laxed to give up any useful details.

Thus, it did not come as any great surprise that the first location was a bust.

Upon arriving at the small cemetery on the hill - just as we had finished ascending the worn stone steps - Alice immediately declared it was not the correct one. Not even stopping to view any of the small stone markers, or admiring the rather lovely evening view it offered. She knew with immediate effect, muttering something about a lack of trees, before descending the same stone steps, the rest of us following in her wake.

While stupendously quick, one could not be disappointed. Life was _never_ that easy. And it was a comfort to know she knew with utter confidence the cemetery she was looking for. One down, twenty-or-so to go.

The second cemetery was a little more difficult to get to, forcing us to travel through the center of the commercial district. Strangely contending with the slight smell of pickles throughout, which seemed to linger over an entire city block.

After avoiding the busiest part of Wiggins - and successfully avoiding looking too suspicious as the Sheriff passed by – we made it to the oldest part of the city. Boasting only one or two actual historical buildings, the block was mostly early twentieth-century builds. They did, however, boast a rather substantial cemetery, with graves dating back to eighteen eighty.

Ideal, considering we had such a broad range of burial dates, calculated through the study of headstone fashions. Even so, the mysterious person in question could have died anywhere between the turn of the previous century and nineteen fifty. Even that was an exceedingly rough estimate.

But optimism in the face of defeat was something I wished to add to my arsenal of characteristics.

After passing through the historic area, the cemetery was relatively easy to locate. A little distance from any other buildings and in a wide open plot of its own, the large graveyard sat back from the roadside, with tall hedges obscuring the headstones from view.

"There's lots of trees," Alice said offhandedly, noting the tall, willowy silhouettes that seemed to encompass the entire boundary of the plot. "The grave markers are about the same size…but the ground is a little too sandy…at least as far as I can see."

"Let's go have a look," Jasper said, placing his hand on the small of her back. "Best to be assured."

"Why don't we split up?" Edward said. "From the looks of it, the cemetery extends a little on the other side of the road," – he gestured vaguely into the darkness – "Isabella, and I can take a look. Call you if we find anything."

As I tried to catch a glimpse of the second half of the graveyard, Alice seemed to hesitate over Edward's offer. Chewing her lip in an absent-minded bout of uncertainty.

"Do you remember-"

"I can recall everything you can," he interrupted her worry, tapping his forehead for good measure. "Trust me, if it's there we'll find it."

Whether his declaration was of any actual comfort, or the acceptance of such a statement was induced by Jasper's hand, she merely nodded before they proceeded off into the dark. Leaving Edward and I to venture off into the second half.

Even to someone as old as I, whom had the gift of immortality on their side, cemeteries remained a distinctly strange and unnerving place. Having reached a point in my life, where I could honestly say I should have been dead…they became all the more creepy.

"I think this must be one of the most depressing holidays we have ever been on," Edward said, as we began a solemn walk down the haphazard rows.

"You're not wrong," I replied, taking the greatest care to watch where I walked. "There's nothing like a casual reminder of human mortality to make you appreciate life."

"Perhaps a sharp reminder that I need to pay a visit to my own parents," he responded.

"We'll go in the new year," I agreed, rubbing his arm. "Have the stones properly cleaned, and the lettering re-chiseled.

"That sounds like a plan. But… you can leave mine," he said simply. "Don't bother with it."

"I'll do no such thing," I retaliated.

"Why not?" he questioned, keeping his eyes trained on our surroundings. "What's the point? I'm very much alive…technically."

"Well, for starters it would look rather weird to have your parents graves cleaned and forget about yours," I began, a little put out to his reaction over his own marker. "The three of you are all together."

"Which means I am forced to look at my own grave every time we visit."

"You take it for granted," I said, shaking my head alongside a pathetic little smile. "What I wouldn't give to have a grave marker."

"To have something marking your death?"

"No, a mark that I was an _actual_ living person. That there was an existence before I became a vampire. I didn't just pop up as an immortal being one day," I responded. "So argue with me all you want. I think keeping your grave marker is important."

"Fine. Fine. I shan't argue," he replied diplomatically.

"Glad to hear," I told him, knocking against him in my stride. "It's only taken you eighty years of marriage to learn-"

"To learn how to deal with you," he jibed.

"Clearly, it's going to take you a little while longer," I implored, standing on my toes to pinch his cheek. "Arguing with me is fruitless."

He practically barked out a laugh. "I learnt that the moment I met you…some ninety three years ago."

"Has it been that long? Doesn't seem like it." I told him, managing to avoid stepping on a stumpy headstone. "I hope you've been paying attention? Because all these graves really do look the same."

"I'm pretty sure it's not here," he replied, using his distinct height advantage to peer off towards the unexplored part of the yard. "These graves are all too recent, and this place doesn't really resemble Alice's vision either. It's not here."

"Let's head back then. We still have so many other cemeteries to visit." I made sure to keep my voice little more than a murmur. "Do you honestly think we're going to find this grave? The idea and execution was solid in theory, but now we're here…"

"I don't know," he whispered. "I can see the image in her mind, but we are trying to match a specific image with a random location. The grave may not even be in this state."

"Half of me thinks this journey is going to end in disappointment, but the other half can't disregard it completely. Alice's visions have always been correct."

"We'll just have to keep searching then."

* * *

><p>After failing to find the grave in any of the cemeteries within the Wiggins district area, we regrouped as a family and drove back towards Biloxi. Continuing the search as promised.<p>

We stopped at another two gravesites on the outskirts of the city, but once again had no luck in our search. Alice, however, held onto a stronger hope for the center of Biloxi, after all, that's where the vision had v_aguely _pointed.

By the time we reached the highway heading south, it was nearly eleven o'clock. After another three failed stops in D'lberville, we were into the early hours of the morning. The roads became much more passible, and the city streets void of the hordes of humans that had been prolific before.

We parked the cars at city hall, knowing the threat of security cameras to be just that – a threat.

Rosalie was left once again to watch over the cars, _suiting her completely_. While Esme was kind enough to stay also - the only one with enough patience to listen to Rosalie's complains about Biloxi.

Once again we began the search; the six of us covertly moving through the streets. Doing our best not to stir up any unwanted attention, or catch the notice of the street cameras. In between Emmett's humorous narration of our trek through the city, and Jasper's complains about the _flying rats, _the long walk was somewhat tolerable.

But as the night progressed and the number of possible destination began to dwindle, the adventurous nature also took a hit. We covered a ridiculous amount of ground, looked at more graves than I should ever wish to, and dealt with ongoing disappointment. Until eventually there was only one cemetery left on the list.

"We're not going to find it," Alice announced, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her pretty winter coat. "If we were going to find it, we should have by now."

"There's still one more to go," Jasper replied, doing his utmost to sound hopeful. The rest of us seemed unable to reply with any more encouragement, so remained awkwardly silent. "It would be just our luck, it being the last one."

Alice nodded, but her whole demeanor remained void of the usual pep.

"Jasper's right," Emmett declared, clapping her comfortingly on the back. "It wouldn't be half the adventure otherwise."

"May I suggest we make this quick," Carlisle interjected, looking up from his cell. "We do not have much time before sunrise."

"It shouldn't be much further," Edward added, trying to navigate via the street names. "As long as we're going the right way-"

"Down there," Alice blurted out, her body moving down a side street before the rest of us had a chance to react. We could only follow on in her wake, trying to keep up with her nimble movements through the narrow alleys.

The momentum of her fast paced movements came to a sudden stop. And she stood stoic on the edge of the sidewalk, gazing across the street at a rather misplaced little church and subsequently its yard of graves.

"So… could this be it?" Emmett questioned impatiently.

"I don't know," Alice replied, keeping her eyes trained on the mission style church. "I didn't see a church in the vision, but that's not to say there wasn't one."

"Let's go find this grave, then," Emmett said, clapping his hands together. "The quicker we do this, the quicker we can find out who this mystery person is. Solve the riddle."

"I'll wait here," Carlisle announced. "Let Esme and Rosalie know where we are."

I elected to wait alongside Carlisle, limiting the number of people whom needed to go trampling through the cemetery, and acting as another pair of eyes in this busy part of the city. We may have had another half an hour or so before sunrise, but the number of cars on the road were already beginning to increase.

Once they departed, the two of us waited in the side alley. Tensely speculating over the outcome, pondering over what would happen should we find this grave, doing everything to remain optimistic.

But ultimately it was a pointless search. They came back, baring the news we all knew deep down.

The grave wasn't there.


	109. Chapter 108: Leakesville

_Hello, sweeties. Happy Holidays! I've been so desperate to get this one out in time for Christmas. I honestly can't say how much I appreciate all those who are still reading, and those who leave me such great reviews. _

_Guest: We are currently on Alice's story, because I couldn't bear to leave it out. She may not be one of my favorite characters, but she has such a fascinating past. But rest assure Bella's past will not be far behind. Thank you for the review. _

_ginkgo00: Hello. Thank you for all your reviews. I hope you continue to read and enjoy. _

_viola1701: Merry Christmas. Here have another chapter! I did always like Alice and Edward's dynamic, it must be nice for Alice to be able to share her visions with another person, having them see what she sees. Thanks for the review. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to The Twilight Saga._

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><p><span>Chapter One Hundred and Eight: Leakesville<span>

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The seascape was something spectacular. Stretching for a majority of the horizon line, the gulf seemed never ending, onwards as far as the eye could see. Where it met the skyline, there was an almost blinding haze of white light, the sun sparkling off the great expanse of water. It was easy to see why humans were so attracted to the coast.

Our balcony offered a prime view of Biloxi Bay, from the sand strip of Deer Island, across the water to Marsh Point. Directly below us sat a large marina, mooring some exceedingly impressive yachts and boats.

"Such a great view," Rosalie stated, sliding the balcony doors closed as she joined me outside under the shaded veranda. "Shame we can't enjoy it."

"It's not hard to see why the Gulf Coast is so popular," I agreed, allowing my hand to catch some of the sun's rays. "Even in winter, this place is so busy."

She casually flicked her hair backwards, before twisting an odd strand in her fingers. A sign that she was contemplating over something. "As stupid as I thought this trip was…I honestly thought we'd find it."

I nodded in agreement. "Same. I was more than surprised when they said it wasn't there. We all voiced reservations… but I think we all assumed it would be here."

"Foolish really," Rosalie responded, leaning on the balcony rail. "I mean, if you think about it logically. One grave, out of how many possibilities?"

"You're right," I conceded. "But why would Alice's visions send us here?"

"Maybe she's interpreting them wrong?" she theorized. "She's so keen to get an answer… perhaps she's jumping to the wrong conclusions. Or it could be that we don't have all the clues yet."

"I can't deny your logic. I think you're right," I said, listening to the sound of the bustling casino far below. "We don't have any more clues to go on. We've exhausted the ones we've been given."

"There's talk of continuing to look for this grave," Rosalie muttered. "Don't get me wrong, I'll support Alice. But honestly, they should understand it's fruitless. We could search from Gulfport all the up to Memphis and still be none the wiser. Biloxi was the clue. It isn't here."

"I think we should support Alice's decision… but ultimately we can't search every cemetery in Mississippi," I responded.

"Damn right," she affirmed, flicking the single strand of twisted hair behind her. "Seeing as we can't enjoy this," – she swept her arm in gesture to the beaches below us – "you want to go downstairs to the casino? Piss off the high stakes table."

"Sure, why not?" I agreed. "It's been a while since I've counted some cards."

The casino invite only extended to the two of us. Half the family had braved the sunny weather on a trip to city hall – hoping to look through a more decisive record of the cemeteries in Harrison County. Edward and Emmett had ventured up to De Soto National Park, hoping to find a better hunting ground. While Rosalie and I, had made the decision to stay at the hotel.

But staying in the hotel did not mean we had to stay in the room.

She and I spend a good deal of the afternoon seeing how much we could win in blackjack before the _house_ got too suspicious. When that lost its appeal, we tag teamed on the Craps table. Drawing in the supportive crowds and free drinks when we won.

At one point, after getting a little cocky, we lost a good chunk of our money, along with our support and drinks. But after some carefully places bets from Rosalie, we soon made it back. So came the fickle support and drinks once again, until the table became surrounded with a horde of nosy humans.

The whole casino was abuzz with noise, people chattering and cheering, ordering copious amounts of alcohol. All conversations having to contend with the noise of the slot machines, which seemed to buzz and whirl at an annoying pitch.

Such at brash tone it was, that I almost failed to hear my cell phone ring. The dull tone it beeped almost lost under the casino atmosphere.

While Rosalie made a great show of throwing the dice against the velvet table covering, I fumbled around for my phone. Eventually digging it out of my dress pocket, just as it rang off – _typical_.

I viewed the caller ID with a little confusion, not anticipating the caller, having spoken to the man not one day prior and having no reason to speak to him again.

"Rosalie," I caught her attention from across the Craps table, gesturing to my phone. "Back in a minute."

She nodded and gave me a thumbs up, before continuing to neatly stack our winnings, giving those around her a superior look as she did so.

Through the throngs of people at the other tables, those milling around the slot machines, and waiting at the bar, I had to weave my way out. Dodging some gentlemen, who seemed keen to get in my way, or buy me a drink. But the plush carpet soon gave way to the clean marble floors of the hotel lobby; the bright, clean reception seemed to keep said _gentlemen_ at bay.

There were a couple of persons waiting to check-in, and several other hotel guests sitting around, but they all seemed to enthralled in their own business to mind me any attention. I found a secluded spot, sitting in a comfortable armchair away from the humans. Enabling me to make the return call.

He answered the call within two rings. "Hello?"

"Hello, Jenks," I replied, making sure no one could overhear this conversation. "Twice as many calls in two days. I'm beginning to think you're getting a little clingy."

He actually laughed down the phone, a rare and rather strangely forced occurrence. "After the disappointment of yesterday, I have some news that may interest you," he said.

"Oh," I sat forward in my chair, drumming my fingers against the upholstery. "Were you able to get me that CCTV?"

"Erm… no," he responded, still sounding quite confident in the face of the same disappointment. "Not the CCTV. I'm afraid that's still very much…impossible."

"Shame," I mused, internally laughing at his use of the word impossible…if only he knew whom he was talking to. "Well, go on Jenks, lay it on me. You've piqued my curiosity."

"Yes, well it is quite fascinating," he began. "While I initially was unable to find any information on that building sketch you faxed me. I did send it to a friend of mine at-"

"One moment Jenks," I paused, placing my hand over the receiver to block out any noise. Looking upwards to greet an exceedingly tall waiter.

"I'm sorry to bother you," he began, looking a great deal apologetic at having to interrupt my call. "The gentlemen at the casino bar, wished for me to bring you this drink."

I nodded out of sheer pity for the poor waiter, who it seemed was completely uncomfortable with the whole exchange. He placed a napkin down on the side-table, before carefully putting the ridiculously fancy cocktail down. After giving him my thanks, he scuttled off.

"Rule for life, Jenks. Never buy a woman a drink unless she definitively requests one," I told him offhandedly, pushing the drink far away from me.

"I'll… erm… keep that in mind," he said, the line crackling as he breathed rather heavy on his end. "Might I continue?"

"Yes, yes. Please do."

"As I was saying, I sent the sketch to a friend of mine at the Historic American Buildings Survey. It took her quite a while to find anything that matched, but after comparing the building size and architectural style, to the survey's database. They got some matches."

"Really?" I questioned, listening to his information a little more intently. "I'd be more than delighted to hear of the matches."

"Yes…well you see, Miss Cullen – and I really do hate to be a bother– it was quite troublesome for me to get the information. My friend at HABS does not do favours; she likes to deal with…money only. So it has cost me quite a bit to get hold of this information…"

I left his declaration hanging in a painful silence, quite amazed that he should ask for more money in such a blatant and unskilled manner. "Jenks, it almost sounds as if you are blackmailing me?"

"Goodness, I should never do such a thing," he replied quite comically aghast. "I-I only wished to notify you of-"

"How much is this _friend_ of yours asking?" I questioned.

"Ten," he said quietly.

"Ten? Ten thousand dollars?" I repeated, unable to keep the disbelief from my tone. "My God, Jenks. You clearly need to find yourself some real friends. She wants ten thousand dollars for a simple bit of information. I sincerely hope you're telling me the truth-"

"I am, I am," he squawked.

"Unbelievable. What cheek," I muttered, trying to quell my frown. "You're exceedingly lucky that I need this information. Otherwise, I should like to pay your _friend_ a visit… But regardless, you'll have your money."

"Thank you," he acknowledged – I could practically hear the relief. "Now do you have a pen and paper to hand? I have quite a bit of information to relay."

"You're in luck," I lied. "I have one right in front of me."

"Excellent. Now, as you know the sketch didn't give us a whole lot of information to go with, but apparently, according to my… erm… acquaintance at HABS, she summed the building could well have been an example of the Kirkbride Plan."

"Kirkbride? I'm not familiar with it."

"No, me neither. But she did explain it to me. The Kirkbride Plan is an architectural design used in the building of asylums – back in the day. It's some kind of… erm… linear plan, promoting the wellbeing of patients. Basically, it dictated the style of the buildings. After looking at the sketch, she determined your building could be an example."

"Right," I said slowly. "How's that information worth ten thousand dollars? Surely there must be numerous buildings built in the same style."

"Yes, indeed, there are quite a number of them. But HABS keeps quite a detailed record of old buildings, or those with historical merit," he continued. "It took her quite a while to scour through the database. But she did come up with three very possible matches."

"Now you have really piqued my interest," I announced, tapping my index finger on the arm of the chair.

"I have a list… bear with me," – I could hear the sound of shuffling papers down the phone line, followed by his mutterings – "Right, got it. There are actually seven buildings on this list, however, four of them are no longer standing. Having been demolished some time ago. Am I correct in presuming the building you are looking for is still standing?"

"Yes."

"Very well. The first one she mentioned was the Institute of the Pennsylvania Hospital. But of the three she said this one was most unlikely. The next two are the most promising: Anna State Hospital in Illinois, and Leakesville State Lunatic Asylum in Mississippi."

"Mississippi?" I repeated, quashing down the excitement.

"Yes, the town of Leakesville itself is located in Greene County. Close to the state border with Alabama," he reeled off a handful of facts.

"I have to say, Jenks, this information seems quite promising. And who knows, if it pays off, maybe it will be worth the ten thousand dollars. You should have your money by the end of today, if not tomorrow. Have a good day, Jenks."

I ended the call with my usual haste, before sitting back in my chair to digest a large chunk of the information that had been relayed to me.

What luck to find a match to a building here in Mississippi, surely that could not be a coincidence? Perhaps, after all the disappointment of last night, Alice was indeed right to bring us here – even if she didn't completely know why. In a truly strange turn of events, maybe her visions had been correct.

But there was only one way to find out.

With the utmost haste I crossed back through the lobby, trying to be as nimble as possible when I came across the sea of people in the casino, successfully avoiding the overly forward men. Making it back to the Craps table in time to see Rosalie raking in her winnings.

"Rose," I called, pushing my way through the group of humans. "Rosalie."

She looked up at the call of her name, brow raised in obvious question, hands continuing to toy with the plastic chips. "What's up?"

"Time to go," I said, gesturing to my cell phone.

* * *

><p>"Are you going to tell me what's going on," Rosalie said, pressing the elevator buttons a little more forcefully, in the hopes we would not have to share the ride. "I was on a roll."<p>

"I got a rather unexpected call from Jenks," I relayed, waiting till the doors had closed before reporting the rest. "He had some rather interesting information."

"Really, he's actually been of some use? Did he manage to get that CCTV?" she questioned.

"No, he says that is still impossible. But he may have discovered the location of our mystery building," I told her.

"Seriously?" she wondered, looking a good deal unconvinced. "Jenks?"

"Well, Jenks friend at the Historic American Buildings Survey. Unlikely he would have the knowledge to find it himself. But that's not even half of the story… take a guess where this building is."

Rosalie watched my face for a moment, gaging my expression and perhaps the faint trace of a smile. "Mississippi?" she stated.

"Damn right," I nodded.

"Really? It's here in Mississippi. How far away?"

"We can't jump to conclusions straight away. He gave me the names of two other possibilities, one in Illinois, the other in Pennsylvania. But what are the chances?"

"Have you called Alice?"

"No, not yet," I admitted. "I wanted to take a look at these buildings for myself first, thought we could take a look online. Do some research. That way, when they get back, we can have all the information we need."

"Sounds like a plan," she agreed, stepping from the elevator with a forceful stride. "So Alice could have been right all along, she just didn't know it."

"It's beginning to look that way," I responded, managing to keep up with her strides.

Rosalie and I spent the remainder of the afternoon glued to her laptop, learning all manner of things about the three buildings. From the sketches Alice had done and the information she had told us, we both agreed the Pennsylvanian Hospital was exceedingly unlikely. Leaving the other two as the most likely contenders.

It turned out Leakesville was only an hour and a half away from Biloxi. A small town with only one thousand residents, all-living in the shadow of the abandoned asylum.

The massive complex seemed to be hidden amongst the trees on the outskirts of the town. Built in the latter half of the nineteenth century. From the online records it seemed to have started out with the best intentions for treating those with mental illnesses. But overcrowding and a lack of funding had led to deplorable, squalid conditions, and in nineteen sixty-four it was shut down.

It was not a pleasant building. We read the terrible medical association reports, and saw the photographs from the self-confessed 'ghost hunters,' these things only appeared when a building had seen horrors. And surely, this building had seen the worst.

While noting down all the crucial information, Edward and Emmett returned. Their delight at having found a decent hunting ground, was further enhanced by the news we might have had a breakthrough of our own.

With no sign of the rest of the family returning, Edward set about trying to contact one of them.

"So… an insane asylum," Emmett noted, looking at some of the online pictures. "Looks cheery."

Rosalie shrugged over his shoulder. "If this enables us to locate that strange old lady Alice keeps getting visions off, what does a horrid old building matter? We don't really need to go inside?"

"This old lady must be important, right?" Emmett continued. "I mean, why would Alice be gettin' visions of her, unless she was important. I was thinking, do you suppose she could be some kind of relation?"

"Related… to Alice?" Rosalie repeated, with an arched brow. "That's a bit of a stretch?"

"It's not impossible," I mused. "But why would Alice be getting a vision now? It's been over ninety years since her change."

Emmett shrugged. "Stranger things have happened," he said.

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><p><em>AN: It's amazing what can be accomplished when you have a couple of days off. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please do review. _

_And Happy Holidays! _


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